


Hades Paradox

by Romaine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:16:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3074165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romaine/pseuds/Romaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For reasons unknown to most, Draco Malfoy came to Hogwarts soon after the battle and for five years had never left its premises. Auror Harry Potter comes to Hogwarts to deal with his psychological daemons, but soon realises Professor Draco Malfoy has his own magical and physical daemons to deal with. However, much to Harry's surprise, Draco is coping well with help from the person Harry aspires to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hades Paradox

**Author's Note:**

> Many years ago I wrote this story for ”hd_inspired"s Back to School Fest. It’s a long story but I never posted it after the fest until now. I want to thank ”leela_cat" for taking on the challenge of betaing it. I cannot thank you enough. 
> 
> Please don't be worried about the threesome tag. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.

****

HADES PARADOX  
By Romaine24

_June 10, 1998_

The mid-morning sun's rays streaked into the room through the stone arched window and advanced towards the four-poster bed, only to be blocked by the thick, black velvet curtains. Draco fitfully sleeping inside was grimacing and moaning with pain. His blond hair stuck to his forehead, his thin cotton nightshirt damp with sweat.

Narcissa came through the bedroom door holding bottles filled with coloured liquids, some producing voluminous amounts of smoke. She set them down on a silver tray on the bedside table. She slowly drew the curtains, tying them to the posts with silver tasselled ropes. She sat by Draco and wiped his face with a cooling cloth. "Draco, love, it's Mother. Please wake-up. You need to take your medicine."

Draco whimpered as the sunshine found his face. "Mother?" he mumbled.

"Yes, dear, it's Mother," she replied, her voice cracking with despair. "You need to drink your potion and then take a bath. To bring down your fever. The elves are preparing it."

"Mummy, no more. Please, no. It hurts," he whinged. Narcissa Malfoy removed her hand from his forehead, covered her face, and wept.

"Ahem," a deep voice sounded from the bedroom door. Narcissa looked up. Lucius stood in the doorway with a thin rectangular package. "It came in the post."

"Oh, thank Merlin!" she cried and ran towards the door. "Open it!" she said impatiently.

Lucius Malfoy looked down upon his wife's distraught face and nodded. "I think we should do this in the study. It will come as a shock to him, and we'll have some privacy explaining the situation." Narcissa followed Lucius out of the room, leaving Draco whimpering in pain.

Lucius stood behind his desk with Narcissa by his side. He tore open the brown wrapping. A tall gangly boy with stringy black hair frowned at the two staring at him as if he were a ghost. "May I ask how I came to be here?"

"A fair amount of Galleons, Severus. I took a chance that your mother would have had one made on your coming of age birthday, as we did with Draco. It was hidden in your basement."

The young Severus in the portrait snorted. "I know where it was located, Lucius. I put it there. I'm sure Draco was donned in regal attire for his...."

"Severus, please, your portrait is fine. It brings back fond memories seeing you this way," Narcissa said, trying to appease the wizard pacing the dusty black background.

"Don't placate me, Narcissa. You barely knew I was in the same Hogwarts’ house as you. Now tell me why my slumber in darkness has been disturbed. I'm sure you didn't bring me out of the basement of my home to be placed on your mantle."

"It's Draco. He was injured during the Hogwarts Battle. You do know that the Dark Lord was defeated?"

Severus Snape sighed. "I do have a portrait at Hogwarts, Narcissa. I haven't been deemed fit to hang in the Headmaster's room as of yet, but I do reside on the wall in my old quarters. Slughorn calls upon me often. I'm well aware of what has transpired."

"Good," Lucius said, curtly. "Then we will not have to spend our time delving into the past."

"It was only a month ago, Lucius. Have you put it so far behind you already?"

Lucius sneered. "No, I haven't. My home and family were greatly affected."

"Phht, but you survived as did your wife and son. So, what is wrong with Draco?"

Narcissa took Lucius' hand in one of hers, the small portrait in the other, and walked over to a couch by an unlit fireplace. She sat down next to Lucius and placed the framed image on her lap. "He was burned by a Fiendfyre. His calves and shins have scars. They're not healing well. He has fevers, which we cannot control, and worst of all he can't be touched. He's getting worse by the day."

Severus pushed back strands of his hair behind his ears. "St. Mungo's?"  
"The Healers do not have the time or inclination to help. There were many injured during the final Battle, physically and emotionally. Slughorn will not return my owls. We hoped for a potion for the fever and sensitivity and maybe a balm for his legs," Lucius answered in a quick manner.

"Murtlap?"

Lucius sighed. "Severus, Narcissa and I are both competent at Potion making. We have brewed the standard potions and balms ourselves."

The corners up Severus' mouth rose. "Really? I wouldn't have thought you'd remember."

"We both received Os, and you know of all people we wouldn't leave something to chance when it comes to Draco," Narcissa said glaring at the portrait.

"Yes, I would know, wouldn't I, Narcissa? Shall I also assume you've combed your Dark Arts books? Contacted Durmstrang? Contacted Dark Magic Healers?" 

"Yes, yes, and yes!" Lucius snarled. "I've even brought a self proclaimed Healer from Romania. He claimed he had the Hades Paradox balm. He was a charlatan of a warlock, and I made sure he would not..." Lucius stopped when Narcissa nudged him with her elbow. "Nothing and no one has been able to help," he finished. 

"Hogwarts?"

Lucius and Narcissa both sneered. "McGonagall will not allow us into the library."

Severus brought a hand to his chin and caressed it with his thumb. "Fine, let me think about this and I will see what I can find out at Hogwarts. I do have the ability to move around there. I'm sure once the tartan bitch remembers that fact, she will have me banished. But, before I go, bring me to Draco. I want to see his legs and hear how he survived a Fiendfyre."

"Harry Potter," Narcissa volunteered as she stood up. "He and his friends saved Draco and Greg from it. Vincent died."

"Potter? Potter saved Draco? This is something I haven't heard. As for Vincent that explains his ghost." Severus chuckled. "He's as ignorant in death as he was in life. He haunts the Slytherin common room and kitchens."

"Vincent's a ghost?" Narcissa gasped as the portrait slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor.

******************************

"I will not have him here, Albus! The boy's actions caused your death and the destruction of this very school."

"Minerva, the Castle is calling him. He will die if he is not allowed to take sanctuary here."

"Poppycock! I've never heard of such a thing," Minerva replied to the portrait hanging in her office. Her lips thinned as others on the wall grumbled at her. "Why would the school do this, if it's even possible, about which I have grave doubts? I sense Severus Snape's meddling."

Albus sighed. "It is for the very reasons you stated as to why he shouldn't be allowed. His actions apparently enacted a Founder's Curse. I assume it's calling for him to pay penance."

Minerva took a deep breath. "Salazar Slytherin, I suppose. Only he would think of something so spiteful." 

"No, Headmistress, it was I," said a disembodied voice from behind McGonagall.

Minerva jumped and quickly turned around, facing the four portraits that very few had ever heard speak. "Founder Hufflepuff, I... I... I'm sorry I don't know what to say. Please forgive me."

The plump red-haired witch's face contorted, as if working out the kinks of being frozen for a millennium or two, and flecks of paint drifted to the floor. She squinted a few times and then glanced at McGonagall and the other portraits, whose inhabitants all contained a common expression of shock. "I'm not a ghost, dear, I'm aware my spell has been initiated."

"But why, my great lady, wasn't it activated before this?" Dumbledore asked, bowing his head as he did so. "There were who that did as much, and in fact, worse things than he."

"Yes, my wise friend, and many of those were killed during this recent battle. It is this young man though, when he was a student, who caused the triggering of the spell. He did great harm while he was here."

"Yes, Founder Hufflepuff, but why didn't Tom Riddle...?"

Helga Hufflepuff glared at Dumbledore; her upper lip twitched. "Tom Riddle did his damage, but he didn't bring a Hand of Glory into the castle."

"The Hand of Glory?" Dumbledore mumbled. "Why would...?" 

"Yes, a Hand of Glory. Such a gruesome name. It was the prize to attain near the end of my time. I'd had enough of the other students chopping off my poor Hufflepuff, non-pure-blood, witches' and wizards' hands to create one. I put the curse up and one hasn't entered the premises since."

"And the curse being...?" Minerva asked hesitantly.

"The offender is to spend the rest of his life confined to Hogwarts once they've finished their seventh year. Oh, and it hurts to have anyone touch him. Rather clever I thought, having a pure-blood be put in that position."

"And is there no counter-spell?" Dumbledore inquired peering over his glasses.

Helga shrugged. "I can't remember. It's been a millennium."

"Helga!" Another voice shouted. Minerva jumped as did every Headmaster and Headmistress in their portraits.

"Fine, fine, fine, Rowena. Just having a little fun," Helga tittered. "He will die if he doesn't come here soon, and if he sets foot off the grounds, he will be in pain and be pleased when death pays a visit. That is until the spell decides otherwise."

"Helga Hufflepuff, you tell them or I will."

"Yes, Rowena, I will," Helga said curtly. "But you'd feel differently if it had been your students who were hung in the trees like common murderers with their hands chopped off."

"Merlin, Helga, it wasn't as if it were their wand hands."

Minerva glanced over to Albus who was blinking furiously.

"Ahem. Founders, please?" Minerva begged.

"The boy must be offered the hand of a non-pure-blood in love and he must take it without hesitation. The spell will recognize his intentions and release him when he does so."

"Founder Hufflepuff," Dumbledore said, "help me understand. Draco Malfoy is not being punished by the Founders because of his misdeeds, but because he brought a Hand of Glory within the castle walls?"

"Yes, exactly, Headmaster Dumbledore. I believe that is what I said before. Do you have a problem understanding simple statements?" Helga said snidely. 

Minerva coughed; Dumbledore appeared not be affected by the insult. "So this happened almost by accident? I mean any student, who could afford one, could have brought such an item into Hogwarts."

Sniggering came from the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw. "It certainly wasn't the cleverest spell."

Helga Hufflepuff sneered at the other portrait. "It worked, didn't it? However," she said and then her gaze turned to Dumbledore, "esteemed Headmaster Dumbledore, much of what occurred happened on your watch. The Hand of Glory would never have been able to come into the castle if you'd been on guard. And for that, Headmaster, you will be the one to explain to the boy that he will be spending an indefinite time at Hogwarts."

Minerva's eyes bulged. She was about to respond when Helga turned her attention towards her. "The boy will come and pay the price for using such a monstrous item of magic, Headmistress McGonagall, or he will die, and that, my dear, will be on your head, not mine. Now, Headmistress, summon Headmaster Snape and tell him to call for the boy to speak with Headmaster Dumbledore. This discussion will not go beyond this room. If I hear one peep, I will personally have your portraits slashed."

"It's been entertaining, as usual," Rowena Ravenclaw said as her portrait stilled.

"Well...I..." Minerva sputtered, but found herself speaking to an also frozen image of Founder Helga Hufflepuff. 

"Who ever recorded that she was charming, was under the Imperius Curse," Phineas Black sneered. "I fear my descendant will reside in these walls until his death."

"Or until he finds true love with blood not so pure. I think Founder Hufflepuff was a romantic." Dumbledore chuckled.

*****************************

_September 1, 2003_

"Harder, Harry! Oh fuck! Yes, there. Come on, come on, give it to me! God, yes!" 

Draco collapsed, his bent legs slowly relaxed and his lover's body collapsed onto him.  
Warm liquid squeezed between them and dripped down his sides. 

"Incredible," Harry mumbled in his ear. 

Draco stretched his neck so Harry could rest his head on his shoulder. Draco's fingers tousled with the sweaty ends of long black hair. He sniggered. "You always say that. Can't you come up with something different?"

Harry pushed himself up and straddled Draco. "You know I'll say anything you need, don't you?"

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. "Yeah, I know. It's just a want, not a need. It wouldn't be you if I gave you the words."

Warm, swollen lips ran over his. "Draco, don't think about it. We're here that's all that matters. This is me."

Draco's lips parted, letting Harry's tongue find its way in. His own heart was starting to calm; Harry's was imperceptible. Four chimes echoed down from somewhere beyond the room. "I've got to go," Draco said and pushed Harry off him and sat up

Harry rolled over and pulled the shimmering silver sheet over his body. "You'll come back?"

Draco leant over, kissed him on the cheek, and retrieved the autumn duvet from the bottom of the bed. He placed it over Harry and kissed him again. "Yes, but the students should be here already."

Harry huffed. "How dare they intrude upon our time?"

Draco laughed. "We've just spent a weekend together. I thought you'd have tired of me by now." 

"No, Draco, never. You're mine," Harry whispered. Draco shivered as Harry's green eyes narrowed and stared into his. "I don't like you leaving me." 

"I'll make it up to you later tonight. Midnight?" Draco asked. His eyes searching into Harry's to see if his words had appeased him; Draco blinked first.

"No dinner?"

Draco shook his head. "I'm required to be at the Head Table for the opening feast."

Harry rolled over, turning his back towards Draco. "I'll miss you."

Draco squeezed his shoulder. "No, Harry, you won't. You won't even know I'm gone."

Harry flipped back over and grabbed Draco's wrist. "Don't say it. Please don't say _that_ again."

"I'm sorry," Draco said and let his fingers drift over Harry's forehead and scar before giving him a final kiss goodbye. He dressed in silence and then walked to the door, turning to look at Harry lying in freshly soiled sheets. He opened the door and stepped into a hallway on the seventh floor of Hogwarts. Barnabas the Barmy on the tapestry facing the door shook his head. Draco grimaced at him and his dancing trolls, and walked down the corridor. He glanced back before he turned the corner; the lines of the door were no more. 

Draco groaned as he entered his premises. His private quarters were luxurious for a member of Hogwarts teaching staff. It had taken years for his parents to accept that he wouldn't be leaving the castle. When they finally had, they began furnishing it with purchases made on their travels. It looked like an international bazaar of furniture and collectibles. A note was floating in mid-air. He grabbed it recognising the Headmistress' seal.

>   
> _Professor Malfoy,_
> 
> _Your presence is required at the Opening Feast. Afterwards you're expected to assist the newly Sorted Slytherins in getting settled._
> 
> _Our first staff meeting will be tomorrow during the mid-morning break. We will be discussing the new Prefects and Head Boy and Girl duties in addition to welcoming our newest staff member._
> 
> __
> 
> Sincerely,  
>  Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

Draco released the missive; it disintegrated before touching the ground. He had just enough time to shower and dress before taking his place at the Head Table. If he timed it perfectly, he wouldn't have to chat about nonsense with the others at the table. But, then again, if he arrived early he could stake out a new spot for the upcoming year. The end of the table would be nice. Spending the last year sitting between Trelawney and Hagrid was bollocks. Neither seemed to care about the pain they caused when they rubbed up against him. He rushed through his shower; he would be taking another one anyway before returning to Harry. Not that it was necessary, a small voice in his brain noted. He shushed it quickly.

He surveyed the Head Table as he entered. Two empty seats at the end next to Longbottom were available. With any luck, Johnson would sit between them. At least he could talk Quidditch with her throughout the year, and if necessary, compare notes on which students were excelling in his Potions classes and her Defence Against the Dark Arts. She never seemed to nose into his private affairs nor did she give him the look of pity that others tried to conceal. Draco took the end seat at the far right, which seemed appropriate as the Slytherin table was in front of it. He nodded to the Prefects. He could see the crestfallen look in the two seventh-year-prefects' eyes, neither were Head Boy or Girl. Draco had been disappointed too, but at least this year's Head Boy position went to Ravenclaw, and Head Girl to Hufflepuff. The Gryffindor run had finally been broken. For the last five years, since the war had ended, one or the other, if not both, had come from Gryffindor. The closest a Slytherin had come was this year. _Next year will be the year_ , he thought. Last year was for getting acclimated to his new role as a professor after three years of apprenticing to Slughorn. Thank God, the self-serving bastard had finally retired. Draco smiled to himself and then wondered where Johnson was as the door to the Great Hall opened.

Draco sat up straighter than usual as Flitwick led the first-years into the Great Hall. The memory of being eleven was long gone. As far as he could remember, he had never been young and had never been without troubles or fears. He tried to hold still as an itch crept up his lower legs. "Damn it", he said silently, he'd forgotten the balm in his rush. The Sorting proved to be more entertaining than usual. He politely clapped for his own house's newest members, but couldn't stop himself from cheering when hearing the name of Parkinson being assigned to Hufflepuff. He expected a scathing letter from Prunella's cousin in the morning post. 

The Headmistress rose after all the first-years found their seats and had been appropriately welcomed by their housemates. Draco's stomach grumbled, and he hoped the welcoming speech would be short. _Fuck_ , he thought as the students broke out in song before the speech. He focused his attention on the rays filtering in through the windows and let his daydreams take command.

"And, finally, I have both bad news and good news," the Headmistress said. "Professor Johnson will not be returning until after the holiday break. She will be travelling the world with her new husband, George Weasley. We will miss her and will welcome her return next term." 

Draco came to sudden attention. Rumblings could be heard from the students. Angelina, Draco knew, was a popular teacher. The seventh years all looked forward to her lessons on spell casting while flying. 

"Do not fret, I believe you all will be pleased with her replacement," Minerva added excitedly. Draco cringed at the sudden high-pitched tone.

He and everyone else in the Hall looked around not seeing anyone. He jumped as an invisible hand briefly squeezed his shoulder. "Hey, Malfoy. It's been a while." 

Draco's stomach dropped. He knew that voice. That voice caressed him to sleep almost every night.

The Great Hall exploded in applause, hoots, and screams as an Invisibility Cloak was removed to reveal Auror Harry Potter sitting at the Head Table.

Draco couldn't stop staring at Harry Potter next to him. It had been five years since he'd seen him in person. Harry's face had matured, his hair was cut…too short for Draco’s liking, his eyes were bright behind golden frames, and— and he was _so different_. Draco's thoughts and emotions became scrambled as Harry rose and joined the Headmistress standing in front of the table. Draco's eyes widened as he watched the witch who ruled with an iron wand, giggle and blush when Harry hugged and kissed her on the cheek.

The dinner became a blur. Draco wasn’t even aware when the food came or when Harry sat back down next to him. Dinnerware was clinking loudly and voices raised in laughter form the tables before him. Halfway through the meal, Harry asked, "Aren't you going to eat, Malfoy— um, Professor Malfoy?" 

Draco stopped his fork from making circles in the gravy only to watch the liquid pool into the marks. He forced himself to look over at Harry. He froze, words caught in his throat. He searched the green eyes for recognition; there was none to be found. He felt the bile building up and knew expelling it was inevitable. Forcing himself to stand up on his sore, burning legs, he looked down at Potter in terror and saw a look of bewilderment cross his face. Draco spun on his heel and stepped quickly into the antechamber. He heard the beginning of Potter's question to Longbottom asking what the hell that was about before he shut the door and promptly vomited what little dinner he had eaten. 

He couldn't stop shaking. His world, his life, his sanctuary had just been shattered. Draco took deep breaths, hands gripping his knees. "Fuck, could I have been more of an idiot?" he mumbled. Somehow he was going to have to collect himself and go back out there and at least acknowledge Harry Potter. The thought make his stomach cycle again. Slowly, he rose up and cleaned up the mess with a flick of his wand. He took one more deep breath and opened the door.

What it said about him that no one but Potter turned their head when he returned to the Great Hall, he feared he knew. They thought him eccentric. He took his seat and gave Potter a quick grin. "Touch of the flu I picked up over the weekend."

Potter nodded and then turned back to discussing something with Longbottom. All Draco could hear was the buzz of voices in the room, which seemed to be getting louder. 

*****************************

 

Draco entered his quarters, stripped off his clothes, and headed for the shower. He hoped the hot water would cease his shaking. Potter had been fine, if you could call being ignored through dinner fine. Thankfully, his duty to get the new Slytherins situated was a decent excuse to leave the Head Table after dessert had concluded. The students, he was aware, whispered about him behind his back. He didn't care. All that mattered to him was that they learned. 

Draco donned his dressing gown and Disillusioned himself before he left his room and headed towards the Room of Requirement. His insides finally settled as the lines on the door emerged. He stepped in and fell to his knees as he saw the Great Hall and Head Table before him.

"Get up, Malfoy."

Draco stood. "Harry, no, this isn't what I needed," he said softly. He knew his face showed fear as he looked at Harry standing naked next to the table.

"But it is, Malfoy, or I wouldn't be here like this. I do like my short hair and new glasses. But enough of that, come here," Harry replied. His hand lifted a small pot of balm sitting on the table. "I'm not cruel enough to do it without this."

Draco hesitantly walked across the room and placed himself next to Harry. 

"Take off your clothes and bend over the table."

Draco froze for a second time that night. His eyes searched into Harry's and then he relaxed completely. He saw the glint of understanding, the spark of knowledge that this Harry, his Harry, understood him completely. He removed his dressing gown and bent over the table.

"Your legs hurt?"

Draco nodded.

"I'll take care of them later, but for now you'll have to put up with it."

"Fine," Draco said. "Do what you want and get it over with."

Harry laughed, a bit cruelly. It sent shivers up Draco's spine. A quick slap across his bum made him squirm. "It's what you need, Draco. Now pull your cheeks apart. I want to see your hole when I put my fingers in you."

Years ago this would have made him blush, but not now. He grasped each cheek and exposed himself. Draco's breath hitched as one heavily coated finger circled his opening. "What's happened, Draco? Why the change in appearance?"

"He's...he's," Draco stammered, the first fingertip entered.

"Who's he?" Harry asked as his finger pushed in further. 

"Fuck, just do it," Draco whinged. "You don't always have to be so patient."

Harry's cock replaced the single digit. He heard the laugh again right before he was shoved further over the thick, wooden table. His teeth clenched together, refusing to admit to the pain. "Who is he?" Harry demanded again, as he leant over Draco's back, pinning him to the table. Draco groaned in desperation with Harry fully encased in him but not moving. He removed his hands from his bum and clung to the sides of the table, knowing when he said the words, there would be repercussions.

"Auror Potter is here until the holidays, teaching Defence," Draco replied. In his head the words and tone came out as matter of fact, but he really had no idea what Harry heard. "Fuck," he yelled as the force of Harry withdrawing and pummelling back in hurt more than he wanted.

"Is...that...why...I'm... changing?" Harry asked, his fingertips digging into Draco's hips with each thrust.

Draco rose up forcing Harry off him and out of him. He spun around. Harry looked furious. "I don't, know! I haven't seen him in five years. He ignored me tonight, okay? He acted like he didn't know...."

Harry grabbed Draco, embracing him tightly. "Shh, I know, I know. He _doesn't_ understand you like I understand you," Harry whispered in his ear. "I just don't want us to regress, Draco. We've come so far. I don't want you to need me like this."

******************************

The first day of the new school year was always hectic. Over the years as Slughorn's apprentice, Draco had endeavoured to make it as smooth as possible. Extra books and potion supplies were on hand. Last year he had stumbled over speaking in front of the students, and his legs had ached from having to stand and walk so much during lab time. Harry had helped him at night with his legs and together they had gone over his lessons. Draco had rolled in laughter as Harry had mimicked his previous self in class and Neville in making great catastrophes just to test Draco's patience. It was something he had worked desperately on. He not only wanted his students to succeed, he wanted his house name to be associated with it. Salazar Slytherin may have gone wrong, but he had been an admired instructor. He had had a passion for teaching. Severus had revealed the previous founder's notes to him, something he never shared with Slughorn. Severus never had the calling to teach potions, Draco did. He kept the small portrait of his previous Headmaster and Head of House in his quarters now that his larger one was with the other Headmasters. Severus mentioned something about Potter's stupidity when the move was made.

At the prearranged time set by the Headmistress, Draco entered the Teacher's Lounge, which was fully stocked with each staff member's favourite tea and biscuits. He scanned the room; Potter wasn't here yet. Draco hated having to attend staff meetings, which interrupted his time preparing potion ingredients for his classes that followed. The others didn't understand the inconvenience. They used their wands or crystal balls or brooms or whatever, but many of the potions required items that were freshly prepared. This meeting, though, he especially dreaded. He had successfully missed seeing Potter, Professor Potter, at breakfast. Draco guessed he was madly trying to prepare the syllabi for his classes. His Harry had learned to be ready for Draco to discuss almost any subject at any time. Draco knew in his youth Harry had had some potential in some classes, but only _he_ had taken the time to encourage him to expand his knowledge of magic and magical history.

"Professor Malfoy, feeling better?"

Draco cursed to himself when he jumped again upon hearing that voice. He turned around and greeted Potter with a nod. "Yes, thank you for asking," he responded, making sure his voice was well modulated.

Potter blinked at him behind the gold-rimmed glasses. "Um, yeah, you're welcome. So how were your morning classes? Mine went better than I expected. A few members of your house thought it would be fun to slime my chair."

Draco rolled his eyes. He'd have to have a talk with all of the snakes about harassing Potter. "My classes went well, as expected," Draco drawled. He wanted to look away, to get away, but he couldn't help himself from staring at Harry's nose. Something was different. It was straight, perfectly straight. He wondered when that had happened or for that matter had it ever been crooked. His memory told him that he had made it crooked with his foot, but then again, it might have been wishful thinking.

"So, Neville tells me that the students are fond of your classes," Harry said with a smile. He then grasped Draco on the shoulder and squeezed it. "Maybe I would have done better if you had been teaching."

Even through his robes, Potter's hand on him felt like a cooling charm, which alarmed him more than anything Potter had said. No one touched him, without causing pain. Draco flinched and swiped the hand away. "Potter, you wouldn't have wanted me teaching you anything. Now, I've been courteous so far, but I can't guarantee it will last. I don't do small talk, and this is feeling rather small."

Potter laughed out loud. The others in the room turned to see what was going on. Draco wanted to hide in the corner or better yet disappear.

"Merlin, Malfoy, I thought you'd have dropped the attitude," Harry said grudgingly.

Draco sniggered. "Potter, this _is_ my normal attitude. There's nothing to get past. Now, if we're done, I'm going to go get my tea and lemon biscuit."

Potter shook his head. "Sorry to have delayed you from your tea, Professor Malfoy."

"No apologies necessary, Professor Potter. You don't know me, so I wouldn't expect you to know my peculiarities."

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, you're still an arse," Harry mumbled and turned away.

Draco sipped his tea from the corner of the room. The chair was comfortable and the footstool was even better. He rested his sore legs as he watched Professor Potter talk with the others. He seemed much surer of himself than Draco had remembered but not as sure as _his_ Harry. He bit into a second lemon biscuit as he remembered the early days when he met with Harry in the Room of Requirement. It wasn't much different than this, except their arguments had led to blood being spilled once or twice. Draco brushed the crumbs off his robes; it was rare that he even thought about those times.

******************************

Harry settled in the overstuffed chair by the unlit fireplace in Neville's living quarters. He stretched, yawned, and shook his head like a wet dog. The warm September air was slowly cooling.

"Teaching the buggers is hard work, isn't it?" Neville teased as he handed Harry a cold glass of strawberry-lemonade and sat down nearby. "And here you thought your Sabbatical from the Ministry would be relaxing."

"Tell me, Neville," Harry said as his sipped the sweet cool liquid, "who invented teenage girls?"

Neville laughed. "Why?"

"They are not part of the human species. They have high-pitched laughs, are prone to giggling, and then when upset, no hex is considered out of bounds. I know I should be giving out more detentions, but the thought of spending more time with them makes me shudder."

"Not like our Hermione, eh?"

Harry shook his head. "Certainly, not," he replied and then yawned again. "So tell me what's up with Malfoy? I haven't seen him since Monday's meeting, which did little to dissuade me that he's changed since we were students."

"He's okay, just a bit of a loner. Bit like Trelawney in that he doesn't show for meals too often, but I'm figuring it will be even less now that he knows you're there."

Harry laughed. "What does he do? I can't help but think an absent Draco Malfoy is not a good sign."

"Don't know, really. In the past four years, since I've been here, I've never seen him leave the grounds. Even on Hogsmeade days, he stays behind. He does come to the greenhouses on the weekend for potion supplies. I've set aside a good portion of number four for him. We chat some, but it's always just about the students, and he'll question any professor if a Slytherin gets into trouble."

"Probably trying to talk them out of detention or something."

Neville sighed. "No, actually if it's for a serious offense he'll add to it. Doesn't take any House points away for it, though. Since Slughorn left, he's been trying to keep the house on an even keel. McGonagall thinks he's too young to be Head of House, so it's temporary, but he's our only Slytherin professor right now."

"And the students like him?" Harry asked; his finger unconsciously running over the rim of the glass.

Neville sipped the pink drink and nodded. "Yeah, they do. I'd like to sit in on one his classes without being noticed just to see what the fuss is about. I mean I've never seen the man smile or laugh. I can't imagine him being engaging as a professor."

A sparkle came to Harry's eyes. "I'm going to do it."

"What?"

"I'm going to see what he's up to."

Neville chuckled. "Why? Haven't you had enough of chasing Dark Wizards?"

Harry shook his head. "Draco Malfoy was only a wannabe Dark Wizard and then became a not wannabe one, but still it makes me nervous that he's being so secretive. Plus he should learn not to be such a prat."

"And I suppose you're going to be the one to teach him."

Harry sniggered as he finished the last drops of lemonade. "Either that or drive him more insane."

******************************

Harry punched his pillow trying to find a comfortable spot to rest his head. It wasn't that the pillow wasn't to his liking; it was his thoughts that bothered him. A sudden breeze caressed over his nearly naked body. In the distance thunder made its presence known. The room had finally cooled down. He was about to close the window when an owl made its way in, landing on the folded blankets at the bottom of the bed. Harry recognized the bird as Kingsley's and was sure the missive was asking about his first week away from Auror duty. He scrambled down the bed and opened his trunk searching for a bag of Owl Treats.

"Lumos," he muttered when he couldn’t find them by touch.. 

His clothes had been unpacked when he arrived, but the state of the rest of his belongings made him laugh. Some things hadn't changed over the years. He rummaged about and found the Owl Treats, feeding the Horned Owl a few before it took flight. Harry watched it exit and closed the window as the first bolt of lightning flashed overhead. He returned to his trunk ready to close it when he spied the folded parchment he'd thrown in at the last minute. With wand and parchment in hand, he crawled back up into bed and then pulled a thin sheet and blanket over him. Carefully, he unfolded the aged map and watched it come to life with a few words that still made him smile. It had been years since he had spoken them.

The halls and corridors were empty at this late hour with the exception of the prefects on duty. His gaze travelled down to the dungeon, in the vicinity of where he thought Malfoy's quarters must be. There was no still mark for him, no mark at all. Movement up on the seventh floor caught his eye and his heart stopped as he watched Draco Malfoy leave the vicinity of the Room of Requirement and return to his quarters. "What are you up to Draco Malfoy?" Harry asked to no one but himself. He waited until he saw that Malfoy wasn't moving anymore before whispering, "Mischief managed," and Noxed the light.

******************************

 

For the next week Harry kept track of Malfoy's coming and goings, before and after classes. While it felt very much like an Auror stakeout, the accommodations were a definite improvement. If Malfoy was trying to be secretive he wasn't being very successful: his routine was predictable. He arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast before any other teacher or student. He sat on the end and read the _Daily Prophet_ while drinking his tea and eating marmalade-covered toast. As soon as the first student or staff member appeared, he left and went to the Potions lab. Harry watched all of this while under his Invisibility Cloak. 

Draco's routine at night, though, that is what held Harry's interest. He waited outside the Room of Requirement each night at ten and watched Draco go in and then Harry went back to his room and noted Draco's exit at midnight. It made Harry nervous.

"Do you think I should talk to McGonagall?" Harry asked as he once again met with Neville in his quarters after Friday's dinner. He recognized that this would probably become a ritual and one that he'd enjoy for the next few months. Neville's quarters were warm and comforting; reminding him of the Gryffindor common room, except the furniture was significantly nicer. He ran his hand over the red chintz of the overstuffed chair. 

"No, I don't think so. Unless you _really_ think he's doing something wrong. Draco had to work very hard to gain her trust and I don't think it would take too much for it to be broken. I wouldn't do it unless you had more than suspicions."

"Evidence?"

"Yes, evidence," Neville said as he sipped his evening tea.

******************************

Harry watched the map by the light of his wand, as he waited for sleep to come his way or for Draco to leave the Room of Requirement. He yawned, thinking it would be the former that won. Being a professor was taking more out of him than he had expected. However, after two weeks of teaching, he was finally beginning to feel comfortable with the decision he made in coming. It had been a last minute one and probably made too hastily. Five years of being an Auror had taken its toll, though the first two years he really couldn't count as being a full Auror. The last incident, an actual fisticuffs brawl at the Leaky Cauldron, got him a room in St. Mungo's for two nights. It had been the final straw. He was tired of being a target for those who wanted to take a shot at him, to beat the great Harry Potter in a duel or physical fight. Only he truly knew what losing a fight or duel meant and that the Elder Wand was at stake. He'd become so testy he'd begun to overreact to anyone who struck him the wrong way. The fistfight he had started, after he was hexed from behind and his wand taken. The other wizard, a bloke from Ireland, was still in St. Mungo's. Harry had retrieved his wand. He had a nice collection.

The Sabbatical was mandatory, but he had no place to go, no home to return to, no place but Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, and that thought horrified him. He seemed to be a wizard with a thousand friends, but only just a handful really held that position in his heart. And two of those, Ron and Hermione, were close but he didn't want to invade their home.

He woke with the morning sun beating down on his bed and his glasses tangled in his hair. He took a quick glance at the map after enacting the spell. Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be found. After showering and dressing quickly, Harry wrapped his Invisibility Cloak around him and set off for the seventh floor. He sat against the stone wall, resting his head against the tapestry across from the room he believed Malfoy was in. He wished he'd brought some tea with him as the morning chill filled the corridor. He'd just shut his eyes for a few moments when heard the door open. Malfoy was smiling as he stepped into the hallway and just before the door shut, Malfoy grabbed it and turned back around. "No treacle tart for you if you do that again," he said and laughed. 

Harry heard a chuckled response before the door shut. And then he sat in stunned confusion as he watched the traces of the room disappear. _Who the hell had Malfoy been talking to?_ Harry pondered the possibilities until Malfoy's footsteps faded in the distance.

******************************

"There was someone in there, Neville. I heard someone laughing as the door shut. I've never seen anyone else go in or come out. It doesn't make sense."

Neville poked over his fry up with his fork and then stabbed at a slice of tomato. "Is that possible? I mean for a person to live in there?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. I suppose, but why? I mean the only reason I can think of is that Malfoy's hiding someone wanted by the Ministry."

Neville took a swallow of pumpkin juice. "Who? I mean who would Malfoy take a chance hiding? Who's still missing?"

Harry stared out at the students wandering into the Great Hall; they all seemed to have taken advantage of it being Saturday morning and slept in. Some of the older ones, he was sure, had been up for most of the night given their sluggish movements. "I'm going to pay a visit to Malfoy today," Harry blurted out.

******************************

Harry waited until mid-afternoon to make his way down into the dungeon. He'd heard from one of the Gryffindor students that Malfoy had given a sixth-year a four-hour detention. He waited until he saw the student leave the Potions lab before announcing his arrival with a knock on the door.

"Professor, this is unexpected," Draco said as he opened the door a crack. Harry took a quick peek into the room; it had been years since he'd been in there. He was pleased to see that Malfoy had made changes, but it was still dark and cool, which he supposed was necessary for the ingredients to maintain their potency. 

"I was hoping you had a moment to talk about Alex. I know he had detention today and I was wondering what it was about."

Malfoy made no move to open the door any further. "If you must know, he intentionally sabotaged another student's potion. And before you ask, yes, I saw him to do it and it was unprovoked. Now, if there's nothing else, Professor Potter, it's tea time," Draco said and attempted to close the door. 

Harry moved his foot, stopping the door's progression. "Actually, there is, Professor Malfoy, and tea would be a great time to discuss it. Would you care to come to my quarters or should we go to yours?"

Harry repressed the urge to laugh as Malfoy's eyes widened. His mouth opened but no words came out. 

"Your place is closer, I assume," Harry said, pressing the issue.

"You're serious?" Draco asked, still looking flabbergasted.

"Yes, I'm serious. Is there a problem with two colleagues having tea in their quarters?"

"Uh, no, but...fine, my quarters are down the right tunnel. I'll order for two," Draco said, opening the door wider so he could step through.

Harry followed Draco down the dungeon tunnel in silence. Sconces lit overhead when Draco first entered, but Harry's eyes were on Draco's feet. He'd never noticed the slight stuttered step, as if he were in pain. He almost bumped into him when Draco suddenly stopped and placed his hand on an arched wooden door embedded in the stone on the right.

"Whoa! I didn't know you travelled," Harry said as he tried to take in the variety of furniture and accessories that filled the sitting room. He was going to have to tell Neville that he was wrong, Malfoy did get out....

"It's all from my parents' travels," Draco replied. He picked up a handled bell from a small table nearby and rang it. A house-elf popped in. 

"Is Professor Malfoy needing tea service?" the elf asked, her eyes bulged when she noticed Harry standing behind Draco.

"Yes, for two. Professor Potter and I will have tea. He will have treacle tart, and I would like an assortment of biscuits."

"Yes, Professor Malfoy," the elf squeaked out and vanished.

"Have a seat, Potter," Draco said while gesturing at two chairs by the fireplace. "I'll be back in a moment."

Harry held his robes tightly against him as he carefully made his way through the path of furniture and vases and other breakable items. He couldn't believe the clutter. A silver tray with a pot of tea appeared on a small table between the two black-leather chairs. He sat down and next to him various ceramic animals were arranged on top of the side-table. He picked up a zebra. Images of an African safari forced their way into his thought. He found himself in the middle of a herd of zebra that were eating dry grass under a blazing hot sun.

" _Finite Incantatem_ ," he heard someone say next to him and suddenly he was back sitting in Malfoy's quarters. 

"What the...?" Harry started to ask and quickly set the object down.

"Just a spell, Potter, nothing to be alarmed about. No lions were going to eat you," Draco said with a slight upturn to his mouth.

Harry shook his head and then watched Malfoy pour his tea. Malfoy added three lumps of sugar and a splash of milk and then handed him the cup of tea. Harry took it but looked at him askance. "Malfoy, how do you know how I take my tea and that I like treacle tart?"

Draco looked up. Harry noted the brief flash of confusion that crossed his eyes. "I...I...I'm observant, Potter."

"I'd say," Harry said as he narrowed his own eyes and took the first sip. He didn't buy it for a minute. 

"So, Potter, what do we need to discuss? I admit to being curious that we would have anything in common to talk about." 

"Girls," Harry said.

Draco coughed. "Excuse me?"

Harry laughed and set down his tea and picked up the plate of treacle tart.

"Girls, teenaged witches, they're driving me insane. Neville said the students like your classes, and I hoped you had some pointers for me."

Malfoy set down his teacup and to Harry's shock he reached across the table and grasped his wrist. "Where did you get that scar?" 

Harry glanced down at the light burn mark on his right hand. Most people never noticed it. He forgot it was there most of the time. 

"Shit, sorry, Potter," Draco sputtered and quickly released his hold.

"It's okay, Malfoy. I got it from the Fiendfyre; I'm surprised you don't have any scars."

"Who says I don't?" Malfoy replied and picked his tea back up. "Now as to young witches, Potter, I thought you would be an expert at those, given your years of being fawned over."

Harry grimaced. "In class, Malfoy, they giggle and pass notes and whinge when given detention. I can't handle them even in detention."

Draco laughed. It startled Harry to hear the sound of him doing so. It wasn't bad. "So no problems with the boys, eh, Potter?"

"Uh, no, not yet. Why do you ask?"

Draco smirked. "Just curious. As to your problem, just _Accio_ the notes and then read them out loud. Stops them every time. For the talking and giggling, put a generalized _Sonorous_ spell on various students when they come in. Don't do it every day, but randomly for different classes."  
"Oh, that is wicked," Harry said and laughed.

Draco's left brow arched. "Yes, and that surprises you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, guess not. Thanks, I think those should do the trick."

"So are we finished with our conversation?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just when I thought we were getting along."

"Phht, Potter, that would take more than a simple discussion about teenaged witches."

Harry set down the empty plate and took another sip of tea. Draco was already standing before he finished. "So what would it take, Professor Malfoy, for us to get along?" Harry asked as he followed Draco to the door. 

Draco put his hand on the glass doorknob and then turned towards Harry. "Probably a good fist fight or two and then some Hexes to get it out of our systems, but even then I have my doubts."

Harry grinned. "Or it could be us just having tea now and then."

"Go to your tower, Professor Potter," Draco said rolling his eyes while opening the door. "It would take more than tea."

******************************

Harry returned to his quarters, almost tripping over Mrs Norris the Second on the main stairwell. The white and black cat was a marked improvement over her predecessor and apparently she liked rats, as the one she was chasing down the stairs was clearly about to lose its life. Harry quietly cheered for the cat.

His room looked so sparse after coming from Malfoy's, but for a few months, it would work out fine. He looked at the pile of scrolls waiting to be corrected on his desk and groaned. He detested having to grade the assignments. He remembered fondly the all-nighters he and Ron pulled and it was obvious there were many students just like him. He wanted to talk to Neville but he didn't want to interrupt his time with Hannah. Instead, he removed his robes and sat down to get the chore behind him. It wouldn't be too proper as a teacher to pull an all-nighter...at least this early in the school term.

"Is, Professor Potter, wanting an early dinner?" a small voice said hesitantly. 

Harry startled and jerked his head up. He looked at the house-elf and his surroundings trying to get his bearings on where he was and what time it was. He frowned, seeing that the homework he'd been correcting was covered in a stain of red ink. "Uh, yes, and I'll be eating in tonight. Thank you."

"Very good, Professor Potter. I be returning soon with steak pie and mashers. Treacle tart is for afters."

Harry shook his head. "No afters, please. The dinner will be enough."

The elf left with a soft _pop_. Harry did his best to salvage the student's assignment. It wasn't too terrible of a mess, and he was sure the sixth-year in question would give him on odd look but wouldn't ask what happened. At least he hoped he wouldn't.

Dinner soon appeared on the small cloth covered table by a window looking out over the lake. It was a different view than he had had as a student, but he rather liked it. Thoughtfully, the elf had included wine with his meal and Harry began to sip from the glass as he mulled over the events from the day. In his thoughts he made a checklist of everything that he found peculiar about Draco Malfoy since his return to Hogwarts. Malfoy seemed frightened of him, stared at him oddly, walked funny, was almost a recluse, spent a great amount of time in the Room of Requirement, and who was in there that he was talking too? Harry let his thoughts drift in that direction for a while without success before returning to his list. Malfoy's quarters and the animal spell were surprising, Malfoy noticing his Fiendfyre scar was strange, and then knowing how he took his tea, was what cinched it that there was definitely something going on that Harry didn't like. It struck him that Draco might actually be following him, without Harry or the map being able to detect Draco's presence. That would not be good. 

Six soft chimes from a clock outside of his quarters brought Harry out of his daydream. The students who had gathered by the lake were coming inside for their dinner. Neville was right, Harry thought, he needed evidence. All he had right now were pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit together. He took a deep breath and made a decision: he would see what Malfoy was up to. It was his duty to the school and as an Auror to make sure Professor Malfoy was not planning to harm anyone. He glanced at his watch. Five minutes had passed. If Malfoy were on schedule he would be entering the Room of Requirement at seven. Harry chuckled to himself. This time he would follow Malfoy into the room. He finished his dinner, and changed his clothes. He would need comfortable clothing to sit still for the hours Draco would be in there. Harry took a notebook and, at the last minute, a wizarding mystery novel, in case there was nothing going on and he became bored.

******************************

Harry stood flat against the stone wall next to where the door would soon appear. This he knew would be the tricky part, getting in without being noticed. For extra safe measure, he Disillusioned himself under the Invisibility Cloak. He heard Malfoy's footsteps before he saw him. Harry held his breath as Malfoy walked back and forth in front of him three times. He seemed to be in a hurry as his robes swished with every sharp turn. The lines appeared, and Harry quickly stepped to the side having misjudged where they would show up. Malfoy almost grazed the Invisibility Cloak as he opened the door.

Harry's hand flew over his mouth, the moment he entered. Slowly he crept along the wall of what was an elaborately decorated bedroom and tried to hold still. He knew instantly he wouldn't be reading his novel. His initial instinct was to throw off his cloak, remove the Invisibility Spell and ask _what the hell was going on!_ , but his Auror training kicked in and he realised this was the time to observe.

"Harry?" Malfoy said as he walked forward to a man who was sitting on the large, silver-blanketed bed. "Don't you want to have afters first?"

The man on the bed smiled. "Come here, you. I know your legs are in misery right now. We can have our chocolate pudding later." Harry flinched as the words were spoken to Malfoy but green eyes stared directly to where he was standing. He felt his legs give way seeing and hearing his double. He slid down the wall to sit on the floor. The gaze of this other Harry moved away from him and focused on Malfoy, who was now standing in front of this other man. Harry's jaw dropped as hands pulled Malfoy to stand between spread legs. Those same hands bunched up the black robe, revealing Draco’s long legs that were scarred as far up as Harry could see. "But first I'd like to play for a moment," the man said. 

"Of course you do," Malfoy replied with a laugh and put his hands on the man's shoulders. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, since you were a good boy and didn't wear pants like I asked, I'm thinking I'd like to bring you off with my fingers up your gorgeous arse while I'm sucking your cock."

Harry bit his tongue...almost in half.

"I...I don't think I can stand for that long," Draco said and pushed the man back on the bed.

Harry's eyes bulged as clothes were being tossed over the side of the bed and noises he wasn't sure he'd ever made or heard were being vocalised. He blinked rapidly as he watched the man who looked like him bring Draco up on his hands and knees. In all his musings about what Draco was up to, nothing prepared him for this...nothing.

"You better grab onto the headboard, Draco, I've changed my mind," Harry's doppelgangersaid huskily. A pot of something flew into his hands and fingers were being dipped in.

"Holy shit!" Harry mumbled silently.

Draco's arse was fully exposed and fingers were worked in. Harry's own bum clenched in response, but there was another reaction he hadn't expected; an erection was building up. He'd never seen another man's arse being treated like this, and he had to admit Malfoy had a nice one. His erection became complete as Draco moved back and forth on the fingers in his hole and mewled with pleasure.

"Oh God, Draco, you can hardly wait can you?"

Draco reached back and tried to swat the man's hand away. "Now, for fuck's sake, now!" he demanded.

Harry jumped as the man removed his fingers and then swatted Draco across the arse. "Ouch!" Draco yelped. "What the hell was that for?"

The man laughed and bent down and kissed the pink mark, which quickly became evident. "Shhh, you know you love it."

Draco's shoulders shook and then he grabbed back onto the headboard bars as his cheeks were spread.

Harry swallowed...hard. He couldn't stop watching the scene before him, though he tried to when the man began licking Malfoy's cleft and then jabbed the point of his tongue in a place Harry had never thought it was meant to go. His view was somewhat blocked but he could hear Malfoy's response, it was pure ecstasy. The man pulled back and gave a hard nip to Malfoy's left cheek. Malfoy moaned. Harry almost laughed out loud, but soon he was squirming as fingers just like ‘his’ coated a dick that appeared to also just be like ‘his’, how that could be he didn't know. _Hell_ , he thought, how any of this could be and he didn't know. His body shuddered when he saw the lubricated cock enter Malfoy. All became still for a moment or two; Harry could hear his own breathing and it was becoming rapid. "Fuck," he said silently again, as he watched the two bodies began to move. His hand found its way to a hard-on that was begging for attention. He tried to will it away, but to no avail. It only worsened as the movements between the two on the bed increased. The bed moved with every thrust the man gave; Draco's fingers were turning white as he held onto the bars. Harry slowly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers. Finally relief came as he slipped his hand in the gap of his Y-fronts. He just knew he was going to hell for getting turned on by watching a version of himself fuck Draco Malfoy.

"Harder, Harry, harder!" Draco cried. 

Harry's hand was working his cock in unison with the two on the bed. His vision blurred for only a moment but he swore that the man looked over at him and whispered, "Beautiful," as Draco came. His own release covered his hand. Silently he cast as spell to rid him of the wet mess. His double was still fucking Draco, whose body had gone limp. Soon it stilled, and a sound and expression he knew very well emerged as the man came.

His heart was still beating fast when Malfoy and the man rose from the bed and entered a side room he hadn't seen before. He heard water running from two taps; one he assumed was a sink the other a bathtub. Harry stood, deciding this would be the best time to leave; he inched along the wall, when his double exited the other room. He glared at Harry. "Don't leave," he mouthed.

Harry froze. "Who are you?" Harry asked back.

The man put a finger to his lips and walked over to Harry. Harry could smell and see the remnants of sex. His hand reached out and touched the man's shoulder. It was solid. "I'm you," the man said softly. "Please, stay. You need to stay, and we'll talk later."

Harry nodded. "Does Malfoy know I'm here?"

The man smiled and shook his head. "No, _Draco_ doesn't and it's important that he doesn't— at least for right now. Do I have your promise... _Harry_?" Without thinking Harry nodded. "Good. Now why don't you come and watch? Don't worry; there won't be any more sex for a while. By the way that looked like a good wank" the man said, as he turned and walked back across the room. Harry found his feet shuffling after him with his cheeks blushing.

The room shouldn't have surprised Harry, given everything else that had just happened, but it did. The space was almost as large as the bedroom, but completely tiled. Malfoy was in a large bathtub soaking. The steam rising from the water was filled with the scent of sandalwood. Large fluffy white towels were stacked nearby and rows of bottles filled with potions and creams were within easy reach. Harry turned his head as the sound of a shower came on. His double entered the walk-in shower, which had spray coming from various taps. Harry nodded to him and then returned to looking at Malfoy. He looked peaceful and content. The water lapped the edges of his white hair and then all of it as Draco slid beneath the water. He came right back up, smiling.

The shower was turned off. "So you must have seen Professor Potter today," the man said as he towelled off.

Draco turned his head a bit. "How did you know?"

"The scar on my hand. It must have come from the Fiendfyre, eh?"

"Yes, that is what he said. The git came to my lab and wanted to talk. We had tea in my quarters.

"Really, whose idea was that?"

"His. He wanted some advice on how to handle misbehaving students."

The man laughed, dropped his towel, and slipped into a soft tan terrycloth robe. He stepped over to the tub and sat on the wide ledge. "So do you think that is really what he wanted?"

Draco's eyebrows knitted together. "I— I thought so. He is having problems with the girls."

A deep loud laugh emerged. "Really, no problems with the boys?"

Draco laughed in return. "No, just the girls, but you're thinking that isn't the reason he came?"

He shook his head. "No, he's looking for information. I'd say he was interested in you, and knowing him, he thinks you're up to something."

Draco's eyes widened, and then he laughed. "God, he'd probably AK me if he knew."

The man raised a brow. "I don't know, Draco. He could get off on the idea."

A flick of water came out of the tub and hit both Harrys. "I seriously doubt Potter wanks off while thinking about fucking me."

"You never know. So you ready to come out? I see we have a new balm for your legs."

"Yeah, I was reading about it during Alex's detention. Thought maybe we should try it."

"What did you have Alex do?"

Draco stood up. Harry caught his breath as Draco's long body emerged, and he saw the thin white streaks across his chest and the burn marks, which had reddened in the water, up and down his legs. The Dark Mark was a soft grey on his left forearm. "I know he wants to be an Auror, like most Gryffindors. He actually stands a chance if he'd just apply himself. Anyway, I had him read about the publicly available Auror cases that were solved by being able to decipher the potions that were used in the crimes. I think he got the hint. He seemed thoroughly engrossed for the four hours."

The man picked up another towel and helped dry Draco off. Harry couldn't believe the tenderness he used when patting off Malfoy's scarred legs. He found himself smiling when special attention was placed to private parts. "Did you tell Professor Potter about Alex's interest?"

Draco sighed. "No, I suppose I should have, but when he's around I can't think. I feel like...."

A hand came to rest on Draco's shoulder. Towels were dropped, and Draco was pulled close and then gently kissed on the lips. Harry gulped as Draco responded, and for the first time since he had entered the room, he felt like he shouldn't be watching. 

"I know how you feel. Just like you did in the beginning with me. You don't know whether to hex him, punch him, or kiss him."

"Certainly not kiss him. That didn't come until later," Draco said. 

"That didn’t happen until I took you over my knee and spanked you once for every year of your life."The man said and laughed as he took Draco's hand in his and led him out of the room. Harry did his best to stand aside. 

Draco giggled. Harry swore he did. He knew he would be replaying this scene back in a Pensieve and he would double check. The sound was disconcerting; it went against every notion he had about Malfoy. 

"And who knew I'd get turned on by it," Draco said and fell onto the bed still giggling.

"Yeah, your cock poking into my thigh and rubbing against mine was a big sign."

Draco rolled on his back and bent his knees. "True, but I would've never guessed that you'd enjoy doing it."

Harry coughed. 

Draco jumped. "What was that?"

"Just me," Harry's double said and coughed. "I was thinking back about how much I liked seeing your arse red, and then you made fun of me because I was embarrassed over it."

Draco looked around the room suspiciously, but obviously not seeing anything, he settled back down. He stretched one leg out and Harry’s double massaged in a thick balm smelling of Murlap and mint

Harry returned to his wall as stealthily as he could and sat back down on the floor. He listened to the two chitchat back and forth about potions and students and how the new sixth years had done on their O.W.L.s. Harry was amazed at how much this other man who looked and acted like him knew about each of those subjects.

Somehow during the time Malfoy's legs were being cared for, Harry realised his initial response of horror had diminished and been replaced with curiosity. He was looking forward to speaking with this person Malfoy called Harry. In the meantime, though, he began to analyse the situation. How was any of this possible? The Room of Requirement was created to give the person what they needed. Why would Draco Malfoy need Harry? Any version of Harry? How could someone like this character be sentient? He seemed to have memories and had clearly accrued knowledge as time went on, and what intrigued Harry even more was that he mentioned the scar. Obviously, the person changed as Draco learned new information about....

"Oh God, yes," the man moaned. 

Harry's eyes refocused, and for the second time since he'd been in the room, his prick hardened. The two men on the bed had changed positions, and Malfoy was licking his cock...no his double's cock. "Fuck," Harry mumbled in silence. No one had looked or acted that enthused about doing that to him. Well, there really were only two that ever had. Only in his fantasies was the head of his dick bathed so lavishly or the shaft grasped with such strength. The sounds Malfoy was making were almost obscene...almost. 

"Going to come! Going to come! Oh, God, yes...."

Harry was shattered seeing Draco not pull away. The other man's body shuddered. Harry knew what that felt like. He took another deep breath as Malfoy snaked his way back up to face the man. Harry leant forward to see if what he was watching was really happening. Malfoy parted his lips and shared what was in his mouth with the other. Harry saw it and then closed his eyes. It was too much. Not that he thought it was too deviant; no, it was too intimate. He couldn't bear watching another moment of these two men sharing so much; the revelation that he had never experienced that freedom struck him to the core.

There was no way he could leave without being noticed. He looked at his watch and sighed as he saw there were still hours to go if Malfoy was going to keep to his normal schedule. "You look tired," Harry's double mumbled. Harry looked up and saw Malfoy resting his head on the man's shoulder as his hand lightly scratched Malfoy's back. Harry noted it was one of the few places Draco wasn't scarred or marked.

"Mmmm, just content."

"That's good, eh?"

"Very."

Soon Harry heard steady heavy breathing coming from Malfoy. He couldn't help but yawn.

"Cast a spell, Professor."

Harry jerked and was suddenly alert from having been spoken to directly. He withdrew his wand and cast a deep sleeping spell on Malfoy. Harry’s double gently pulled covers over Malfoy and placed a pillow under his head. He then sat up and reached for his robe. Soon he was off the bed and standing in front of Harry. It was unnerving to see his own green eyes staring menacingly back at him. "Why did you come?" he demanded. 

Harry quickly came to his feet and stepped forward, closing the distance. "Who the fuck are you pretending to be me? What the hell is going on?" Harry spat out.

"Better put up a Silencing Spell, Professor Potter. I'm not sure your last spell will hold up against you yelling in my face."

Harry narrowed his eyes and lifted his wand and cast the spell, working to keep his tone even. "What, can't you do magic?"

"No, Professor, I can't. I thought that would be obvious."

Harry shook his head. "What the hell am I supposed to call you, anyway?"

"Harry, of course, Harry Potter. That is my name."

Harry sniggered. "And then who am I?"

"Harry Potter, Professor Potter, Auror Potter, or as Draco refers to you most of the time, Potter."

"Fuck what Malfoy calls me!" Harry snapped back. He raised his wand to the other Harry's neck. "I want to know why you are here. How can you even be possible?"

The wand was swatted away. "Magic doesn't work on me, Harry. I'm not real if that is what you want to know. I'm the castle's creation to give Draco what he needed five years ago and what he continues to need."

"But...but you're sentient," Harry said, becoming more confused by the second.

The other man grabbed Harry's hand and raised it to his chest. "I have no heartbeat, Harry. Draco can hear one if he needs to, but it isn't real. My semen is only produced because he needs for me to reach orgasm; he needs to know he has pleased me."

Harry staggered back against the wall. "And does he _really_ please you?"

"Yes, of course."

"How...how did this start? How did you become so real? How...?"

Two chairs appeared. "Sit, Harry, and we'll talk."

Harry fell into a chair, and a cool glass of water soon appeared on a table that wasn't next to him when he sat down. He reached for it and drank deeply. "You don't want some?" Harry asked as he finished and set the glass back down.

"No. But it's more than just that I don't want it. I don't need it. I eat and drink with Draco to keep him company, but I don't require food or a bathroom. I can't really taste things the way you do, but I will give the correct response if asked."

Harry laughed. "Well that explains how you could put your tongue where you did and then later share your come."

"No, it doesn't. What Draco and I do sexually has nothing to do with that. We do it because we enjoy each other's bodies. We've sexually matured together. We've learned together."

"Well, now, there's a major difference between you and me. I could never...."

"Oh, but you could, Harry, or I never could have done it. If it wasn't in your make-up to be that intimate, I wouldn't be this way."  
Harry shook his head. "Wait a second. Are you telling me that you are like me?"

The man ran his fingers ran through his short black hair and a deep sigh followed. "I am based on you, the core of you. I can't do anything that would violate your basic beliefs, morals, or history. I am everything you were up until September 1998. That is when Draco opened the Room of Requirement's door and found me here."

"He asked for me?" Harry asked, completely befuddled with the situation.

"No, you, git. He asked for help."

Harry sighed, and his nostrils flared. This was beyond frustrating. "Help with _what_?

"I can't say."

Harry stared at the man who moved like him, talked like him. He was beginning to understand why he frustrated others so much. "Why?"

"You're the Auror, think about it. You've obviously thought about some things to make you come here. Put the pieces of the puzzle together."

"You know I want to smack you right now, don't you?"

The other Harry laughed. "Yeah, feeling's mutual. Just guess. I told you I can't say."

"Can I ask questions?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Potter, of course. Here let me say it again. I can't say."

"You called me Potter?"

"Oh my God, you are frustrating. Draco was right."

Harry huffed. "Okay, okay, let me think."

"No comment."

Harry raised two fingers. Two were raised back.

"A vow? Draco took a vow and can't talk about it?"

"Close."

"A curse? He's under a curse."

"No comment."

"Who cast it?"

"Bloody hell!"

Harry sat back in his chair tapping his fingers on the cushioned arm. His counterpart did the same. "All I know is what I've been told and what I've seen. Malfoy doesn't leave the castle grounds, doesn't speak to his colleagues very often. In fact, he actively avoids them. He's been here for five years, for reasons that were never explained to the Ministry. He was injured by the Fiendfyre, but his scars should have healed better than what I saw. He's a good Potions master, and his attitude towards me still sucks."

"And what conclusions or hypotheses can you draw?" 

"He was cursed, and it has something to do with the castle because he never leaves. Somehow his legs were affected. He doesn't have good friends here and he needed one, therefore, I— rather you— filled the void. But why he was cursed, what exactly the curse is, and who cursed him, I haven't a clue."

The other man smiled. "You don't need to know. What's important is that the castle chose you as the best person to help him. That is why I asked you to stay. I can only do so much, but you, I believe, can see him on the rest of his journey out of purgatory."

Harry laughed. "And why would I want to do that? The best behaviour he's ever shown towards me is being indifferent. Most of the time, he's been a downright arse."

"Fuck, are you blind? You saw how we are together," the other Harry said, showing his anger. "That is what you could have, what he could have!"

"Oh, good God, why would I want to go around fucking Draco Malfoy? I'm not even gay!"

Laughter reverberated around the room. "I was wondering when you would get to that. Let me just say this one more time, and please let it sink in this time, Potter. _I cannot do anything that goes against your nature._ You, I would say are bi, especially given your wanking demonstration. And just for curiosity's sake, are you still seeing Ginny?"

Harry leaned forward, his fingers digging into the material. What was just revealed to him, he had to admit, was not really a revelation at all. "That is none of your business!"

"Fine, just asking. I was just going to ask how she was. I have fond memories of her, and Draco doesn't like asking Neville. The castle only picks up bits and pieces of conversations."

Harry shook his head. "What?"

"The castle, Harry, is sentient. I am part of the castle. It absorbs information, which if pertinent to my situation, adds to my character."

Harry fell back in his chair again. "I need to talk to Dumbledore."

"Go ahead, but you know he won't give you a straight answer."

"Bastard. Maybe I should try Snape."

"Oh, as if he would help. He thinks Draco's situation is rather humorous. Anyway, Harry Potter, you need to go. I need to wake up Draco; he gets upset if he sleeps here too long. Do you have any other questions?"

A smirk broke over Harry's face. "Did you really spank him?"

A matching smirk broke over his double's face. "Oh fuck, yes. We'd had a major brawl, and I was so tired of his snarky shit. As if I intentionally showed up, instead of him facing the fact that his own needs caused the situation. I forced him over my knee and spanked him. He was so pissed off he tried to Hex me. I laughed at him and pulled up his robes. Who knew that the prat went commando. I spanked his arse harder."

Harry chuckled. "Did it feel good?"

"The best." They both looked at each other and laughed. 

"I was so into getting every frustration out that at first I didn't notice his physical reaction or mine. The bastard was hard as rock, and his cock rubbed against mine. Our argument went tits up from there."

"And then...?"

"And, then, Harry Potter, I ran my hand over his warm, tender cheeks. Draco’s hips jerked. I called for a cool lotion and rubbed it in. He literally mewled, and we were caught up in a game neither of us could admit to enjoying for some time."

"Shit," Harry murmured. 

"Yeah, that's about what I said, especially when he stood up, pushed me back onto the couch and undid my zip. You saw the type of blow-job he gives. Let's put it this way, the first time didn't take long."

"And he still likes to be spanked?" Harry asked, knowing he was walking a fine line between curiosity and lasciviousness. Hearing about spanking Draco had brought him back to a state of arousal.

"Harry, it's more than just spanking or even paddling. It's been challenging to fulfil Draco's needs and stay true to the core that makes up Harry Potter. He needs me to be a little rough sometimes, and to be honest, it surprised both of us that I could accommodate him." 

Harry shivered. He knew that aggression was in him, it was the main reason he had been asked to take leave. 

"I, we, you and I, have our limits. But now, Draco and I have got past most of that anger and we just have fun playing some sex games. And speaking of sex games, you have to go now; because Draco and I have some things left to do along with eating our pudding."

"You're not going to let me watch again," Harry said with a wink as he stood up. For some reason he felt better hearing that _this Harry_ had worked through his anger.

"Nope, I wouldn't go beyond what you've seen tonight unless Draco invited you. Of course, that could make things quite interesting. I'm not sure we will see each other again unless you choose to help Draco," Harry's double said as he stood and held out his hand.

Harry looked at him and held out his own. It was an extremely strange moment to be shaking his own hand. He was pleased to finally know that he had a good grip, but not too hard. "I'll think about it," Harry replied and released his hand.

"Before or after you get rid of that hard-on?" 

Harry growled and left the room. He lifted the Sleeping Spell after he turned the corner.

******************************

A bottle of Ogden's finest floated into Harry's outstretched hand as he entered his quarters. He sincerely doubted a Calming Potion would help right now, drinking until he couldn't think was called for. He had a moment's hesitation as he lifted the bottle to his lips, he hoped he wouldn't be seeing double.

After the first three gulps, he lowered the bottle and enjoyed the burn down his throat. He packed away the Invisibility Cloak but left his clothes strewn across the floor. A bath, yes, a bath might help. Images of Draco flew into his thoughts. His long scarred body soaking in that extravagant tub, looking so peaceful. 

Harry lowered himself into the warming water, the bottle still in hand, while wishing his daemons could be drowned in the water. His fingers played with water droplets, causing ripples. Sorting out the emotions that were strangling any clear thoughts was like disentangling Devil's Snare, he wondered what kind of light would help him escape.

Fury that Draco Malfoy was having a relationship with someone who looked and almost acted like him overruled all of what he was feeling. Following a close second was betrayal, in that the castle, which he had helped protect and took down Voldemort within its walls, provided this character for Draco to play with, was almost too much. Jealousy of the shared intimacy couldn't be denied nor could his physical reaction to what he'd seen. His admiration for his double and the confidence he showed was an added annoyance. Harry let his imagination flow with possible responses, but all of them seemed spiteful. 

"I'm _not_ going to help him and I'm not bi," he muttered, knowing the latter wasn’t quite the truth. 

He looked down not quite believing his erection was still waiting for him to do something about it. "Traitor," he said out loud. He jumped and almost dropped the bottle of Ogden's when an owl appeared and landed on the ledge. "Hey girl, how'd you get in?" he asked, knowing he hadn’t opened his windows when he came back to his room. The brown owl blinked at him and lifted her leg. Harry carefully removed the missive trying not to get it wet.

>   
> _Dear Harry,_
> 
> _I'm sorry I'm so late in writing. We just returned from our tour and your messages were waiting. I can't believe you are back at Hogwarts. The nerve of them to put you on leave. I know you're worried about your temper and that things have progressed, but I really feel they've overreacted. It's not like you don't have a reason to be angry._
> 
> _When I come home, we can spend some time together and maybe we should try again._
> 
> _I miss you and I hope you find some peace at Hogwarts. Watch out for those young girls and their love potions, and give my best to Neville._
> 
> __
> 
> All my love,  
>  Ginny

Harry sighed and set the parchment down. A puddle of water reached the frayed edges and soon the ink had blurred. He lifted the bottle and took another drink, before submerging under the water.

******************************

"Headmistress, I've noticed that Professor Malfoy doesn't join us very often," Harry said, carefully modulating his tone trying not to act too interested. His head finally was clear after Saturday night's drinking. Sunday was a blur and Sunday night was spent correcting assignments. He toyed with his eggs before finally stabbing a bit with his fork while waiting for a reply.

"He's fine, Harry. I would think you would rather he wasn't in your presence unless necessary."

Harry glanced over and saw her raised brow questioning him. "I would've hoped we'd both matured a little over the years. I've heard positive comments from my students about his class. And, yes, I was surprised."

"I bet you were," Minerva said with a grin, breaking the morning's tension. "We've never had so many students attain Es and Os before he began instructing, even as an assistant."

Harry bit into his almost burnt toast and nodded. His stomach was already feeling better with sustenance, which it had been denied the previous day from being hungover. 

"I had my doubts, as you could imagine, but I think he will be staying at Hogwarts for a long time."

The dry toast was swallowed quickly and followed by a sip of tea. "Headmistress, may I ask why he came here?"

"No, Professor Potter, you may not. Just as I don't discuss your situation, I won't discuss Professor Malfoy's."

Harry noted the use of his formal title and knew it was time to drop the discussion with the Headmistress, but there were others who might talk.

"Headmistress, speaking of my situation: would it be possible for me to visit the portraits in your office?"

******************************

Harry sat in the chair in front of the Headmistress's desk, which he turned to face the portraits. All were asleep, or pretending to be, even Severus Snape whose portrait he had fought with many to have placed there.

"No answers, no riddles, no clues, don't I deserve at least one word?" Harry said, frustrated with the only sound being soft snores.

"Well, dear, if you hadn't destroyed my diadem, I'd have offered to let you wear it."

Harry jumped out of his chair and spun around. "Who said that?"

"She did, and if she says anything more, I will...."

"You'll what, Helga? Hex me? Ha ha ha!"

"Rowena, mark my words, you'll rue the day if you say anything to help the boy."

Harry stood there stunned, his mouth opened but no words escaped. His hands gripped the chair for balance.

"Really, Helga, the wizard is a man, not a boy. Rather a nice one I might add. "

Harry coughed, not quite believing the conversation between the two founders. He thought their portraits had been silenced centuries ago. His brain finally kicked into gear. The curse on Draco must have been an ancient one created by Helga Hufflepuff, who didn't appear all that charming and wasn't too friendly with Rowena Ravenclaw, which contradicted what was written on their Chocolate Frog Cards.

"He's not your type, Rowena." Helga tittered.

"More like Godric's I'd say," Rowena said and then they both began to laugh hysterically.

"Er, I'll be leaving now," Harry said, realising that the two were not being helpful and probably wouldn't be. He glanced over at the wall of portraits; they were wide awake now, but still silent. Dumbledore winked at him. Snape scowled.

"Leaving so soon, Potter?" 

Harry stopped in mid-stride as he walked towards the door, wary of what Severus Snape would say to him. They'd never spoken, even after Harry insisted to McGonagall and the governors that Snape's portrait be placed among the others. "Yes, sir."

A small satisfactory grin crossed Snape's face. "The Headmistress said you needed guidance, but I see that you're too stubborn to ask."

Harry bit his lower lip and sighed. It was too tempting to remind the wizard that he was sleeping a few moments ago and did not answer his pleas. "I don't believe you can tell me what Draco Malfoy's situation is, can you?"

"Professor Malfoy, Potter. And, no, we're not allowed. Is there something else?"

Harry shook his head. "No, sir."

"Harry, there is no reason to hide your fears from us. We are all here to help and guide those who need us," Dumbledore said. The two founders’ portraits behind him were once again silent. Harry stepped closer to Dumbledore. 

"I'm not sure there's anything left you can do for me, Professor. I thought, we thought, it left me that day, but I think part of him remains."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, his fingers ran through long strands of his beard. Harry waited in silence. "I don't believe you're correct in your assumption, Harry. The piece of Voldemort's soul has vacated your body."

Harry grimaced. "With all due respect, sir, you're not the one feeling these things, thinking these things. I'm having problems controlling my anger. I get set off by the smallest of things. I almost lost my job, and I've been in St. Mungo's more times than I ever was in the Infirmary. 

Snape rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Have you tried Calming Draughts?"

Harry looked at the wizard askance. "Of course, I have, sir."

"I fail to see the wisdom in having you come here to teach children if you cannot control your temper," Snape said, while glaring down at Harry.

Harry was sure they all heard him take a deep breath before responding. His goal was to stay on topic, and not remind the wizard on the wall, who'd terrorized him and others during Potions classes, that he was the one who shouldn't have been allowed around children. Instead, he switched his attention to Dumbledore. "Professor, I'm continually being challenged, magically and physically, like I'm some sort of trophy. And as you know, if one of them succeeds, then the Elder Wand is back in play. I've become...I've become overly suspicious and tend to strike out, and sometimes with more force than required."

"I see," Dumbledore said. Harry saw a gleam of concern in his eyes. "So Hogwarts is a safe place for you then," he added.

Harry nodded. "Yes, and I'm thankful the Headmistress let me come. I don't think I could've faced staying at Grimmauld Place by myself."

"I understand, Harry, and coming here, to Hogwarts, was a wise decision. We should talk more about this situation, maybe someplace with fewer ears."

Harry nodded again. He already felt some of the tension ease. Dumbledore's voice held such comfort and confidence. He should've come earlier, he thought. Maybe there was a way out; because he really wasn't sure he could continue feeling this way.

******************************

The crisp autumn air called to Draco. Every year, nostalgia would creep into his thoughts and wrap its tendrils tightly enough so that he was forced to leave the castle and walk the grounds. He knew he should get outside more, but knowing he could go no farther than the invisible lines drawn in the ground tortured him. One time, four years ago, he'd tried to leave. Death had seemed a wise alternative to a life trapped at Hogwarts. The only person he consistently talked to wasn't even real, and on top of it, that person had bugged the hell out of him then. He had ridden his broom along the path leading to Hogsmeade. The deciduous trees had been in full colour and he'd wound in and around them, dodging the leaves that had finally surrendered and floated down towards their fallen mates. When he had reached the gates, they'd opened for him to leave and he could see the town and it beckoned him. He'd dismounted his broom and took the fateful steps, only a dozen or so, before the pain attacked his newly healed legs and never let go.

From this viewpoint in the Owlery, he could see the Gryffindor Quidditch team practising. That is what called him to venture out: the pure sounds of joy. The astronomy tower would have given him a better perspective, but that was a daemon he didn't want to face. Instead, he watched the young witches and wizards fly through the open air. The suddenness of their descent to the ground drew his attention. 

"Potter," he said with disdain. 

The team was gathering around him, and to Draco's astonishment, Potter didn't appear to be thrilled. He mounted his broom and jetted away from the crowd. From Potter's new position, Draco could see and hear him discussing techniques with those that followed him up.

Draco's fingers wrapped around the handle of his own broom, the newest model; his parents insisted upon buying him one every year. He would wait for the lesson to be over with and the sky to empty before adventuring out into the open. Flying was one of the things he still found joy in, but he limited those types of experiences. Too much, and he'd get enthused, only to sink lower than before. 

He watched Potter with interest. This was the first time in the past six weeks he could do so without complication. He'd avoided him, and successfully so, but that didn't mean he didn't watch him. Potter seemed to be adjusting well and his friendship with Longbottom becoming solid, but the expression he wore when others weren't watching was unsettling. It was the one he knew his Harry favoured when they first met: one of distress and unease. Draco wondered if the cause was the same, it probably was, but he couldn't be seen as the solution for this Potter. Draco backed away, hiding behind a pillar as he saw an errant Snitch zoom by erratically; Potter was closing in, his hand outstretched.

The students left the field as the sun set low over the lake and the wind picked up. Draco mounted his broom, a few owls blinked as he flew out the arched opening and into the vacant sky. He swept over the Quidditch Pitch, over the edge of the Forbidden Forest, disturbing the nesting birds. Flocks of bats emerged and followed him as he swooped through the buildings and towers. His expression of joy froze as the chilled air smacked into him. A deep dive over the Greenhouses, a simple wave to Longbottom, and then he climbed above it all and held steady. The sun's last rays spread across the rippled lake. He took a deep breath of the clean air; it was dry and it cleared out the dampness from the dungeons that had settled in his lungs.

Tears, nearly frozen, slowly slid down his cheeks. He wanted to cross the lake, just for a moment. _No_ , he thought. He wanted to cross it and ride all the way home, to his parent's home. Rarely did he indulge himself in such maudlin thoughts. He wiped his cheek with the sleeve of his robe, which was whipping with the wind.

"You, okay?"

Draco squeezed his eyes shut. Just for a moment he could pretend it was his Harry next to him and he could release the emotions without consequence. His Harry would understand. His Harry would massage his legs, and bring him hot chocolate. He forced his eyes open and turned his broom abruptly to see the wizard who invaded his space.

"I was until you showed up. Just go, Potter, and leave me the hell alone," Draco responded derisively. 

"Fine!" Harry spat out. "I just saw your sorry arse up here and thought perhaps you might want to join me on the field for a one-on-one with the Snitch."

Draco burst out laughing. "Fuck, you're serious aren't you? Potter, I ride a broom maybe four times a year. I wouldn't be any competition for you."

Harry shook his head. "Malfoy, I just watched you fly around the castle. You can fly with the best of them. I'll abide by your wishes and go, but on one condition."

Draco sneered. "And what pray tell would be that one condition?"

"That we have tea when you come down. My quarters. I have some things I need to discuss with you."

"You don't quit, do you?" Draco responded. 

Harry rolled his eyes. Draco hated it when his Harry did that, and it was worse watching this one do it. "No, Malfoy, I don't. I'm a persistent arse, and if I wasn't, you would've burned up with Crabbe."

"Fuck you," Draco spat out. "I didn't ask for your help!"

Harry laughed and grabbed Draco's broom handle moving it closer to him. Draco could see the fire in the green eyes. "The...hell... you...didn't," Harry said slowly. Draco watched as each word was pronounced and each one struck like a knife into his heart. He knew what Potter said was true. "Just think, Malfoy, you and Goyle could be haunting the kitchens and dungeons with Crabbe."

Draco's eyes widened, his jaw set, he removed one hand from his broom and formed it into a fist. Without a second thought, he aimed to punch Harry in the face. Harry grabbed his wrist just in time and squeezed it hard. "Don't even...Malfoy...don't even. If you had a clue why I was here at Hogwarts right now, you wouldn't push this any further."

"Phhht, Potter, you think I'm scared of the great hero?" Draco laughed, while another part of his brain was telling him to back off. "I lived with the Dark Lord for a year. What makes you think I'd be afraid of you?"

Draco flinched as Harry's nostrils flared and Harry drew him even closer, their noses almost touching. "Malfoy, I lived with your Dark Lord's soul in my body for sixteen years. You had better be scared of me." Harry let go of Draco's fist, pushed him away, and drew out his wand. Words forming a spell, which Draco didn't understand, were spoken. His broom took a sudden nosedive and he screamed as he sliced through the air and the earth came closer. Suddenly, when he thought death was imminent, he began to laugh. His pain would soon be over and Harry Potter would be going to Azkaban. His short macabre daydream died abruptly; his broomstick braked, and he jerked forward. Fingers grasped the back of his cloak and pulled him upright as his feet touched the ground. Before he could catch his breath, he was rolled off his broom, and punches were landing on his stomach and face. His adrenaline raced through his body and all he knew was it felt good to connect his own knuckles onto another body and hear the impacting crunch.

"Boys!!! _Petrificus Totalus_!" 

Draco wanted to scream, not only with pain, but with the sudden withdrawal of human contact. He barely listened to McGonagall's lecture as he and Potter were levitated to the Infirmary, his mind was focused on one thing, _Harry Potter could touch him without causing him pain_. Flashbacks of the previous moments that had occurred, came in rapid succession. This revelation both scared him and intrigued him.

"Merlin, Professors, what were you thinking? This is not a proper way to behave around students. What kind of example are you two? One more outburst like this and I will remove you from your position, Professor Malfoy. And you, Professor Potter, I will remove you from Hogwarts."

Draco looked over at Potter, who was being attended to by Poppy. She glanced over at him and shook her head. She knew she couldn't touch him physically. There was no lasting damage to Potter, but Draco did enjoy seeing the small pool of blood on the white sheet. Minerva was next to him, casting her own healing spells. She handed him a warm cloth for him to wipe away his blood.

Potter was watching him as he did so. He looked defeated, even though he had actually won the fight. 

"I expect better behaviour from now on," McGonagall continued. 

"Yes, Headmistress," they answered in unison and then glared at each other.

"Hey, Potter. Tea at your quarters? Say seven?" Draco said with a smirk.

Harry chuckled. "Assorted biscuits?"

Draco thought for a moment. "No, I think éclairs are called for and maybe something stronger than tea." He wanted to laugh at the Headmistress who followed their conversation like a game of Pass the Quaffle. Instead, he sat up, picked up his broom, and limped out of the Infirmary. Potter had kicked his shins during the brawl and they hurt more than usual, whether the kicks were on purpose or not, he didn't know. He hoped it was the latter.

******************************

Harry looked around his quarters when he entered and was thankful the house-elves were so kind to the staff. Everything was clean and put in its place. He glanced in the silvered mirror by the coat rack as he hung up his cloak. His face looked a bit bruised, but he'd been through worse.

"How did the attempt go, Harry?"

Harry walked over to the small portrait on the mantle. "As well as could be expected. He will be coming for tea...er, brandy and éclairs."

"Was this agreed to after you came to physical blows?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes peering over his spectacles.

"After. McGonagall threatened to kick me out and remove Malfoy from teaching."

"Ah, I see. And do you have the balm ready?"

Harry picked up a black glass jar with a gold latch from the mantle next to the portrait and showed it Dumbledore. "I finished it while you were sleeping. Professor Snape reluctantly admitted that I did it properly."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very good."

Harry sighed. "I know this will help Malfoy's physical ailment, but I don't see how Malfoy can help with my situation, sir. I know you believe there's a connection, but I don't get it."

"Harry, you two have a past that has intertwined for years but has never come to a resolution. I believe the time is now to face each other as men, as wizards, and not children. Thankfully, time does allow us to see our previous follies and to gain perspective."

"Um, sir, what are you trying to say?" Harry asked impatiently. He looked at the time and realised he would be missing dinner soon.

"I'm saying, Harry, that you two have matured, but both of you have old wounds. It seems the castle believes you can help him and have helped him...."

"You mean my double has helped?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Harry, but he is still you in many respects. And Draco has helped your double. The wounds that remain between you two; your double cannot cure those, only you, the real Harry Potter, and Draco Malfoy can do that."

Harry was about to respond, but the old interfering wizard's head nodded down. "Must be convenient to say your piece and then go to sleep," Harry grumbled to himself.

The bath was a welcome relief to the bruising that still remained. Harry marvelled that the house-elves were on top of things and surmised correctly that he wouldn't be eating in the Great Hall. He and Malfoy would have to do something public to show that they could get along. Maybe showing up to breakfast together would be enough.

Harry dressed casually as he observed the map. Malfoy would be arriving in a half-hour. Harry wasn't surprised to see him leaving the Room of Requirement and returning to his own quarters. Their usual rendezvous time had been altered. Harry wondered if his double minded. 

Scrolls were opened and glanced at as Harry tried to distract himself from thinking about what he had to say to Malfoy. It wasn't going to be easy, but he knew, in the end Dumbledore was right: Draco Malfoy needed Harry and for some ironic reason the reverse was also true. A silver tray filled with éclairs, bottles of spirits, and tea, just in case, arrived at five minutes of seven. Harry put away his students' work and went to the mantle to retrieve the black jar. He set it down on the tray.

The knock on his door came as the fourth chime of seven struck.

******************************

The Calming Potion took effect as the door opened. "Professor Malfoy," Potter said and stepped aside to let him enter.

"Professor Potter," Draco responded as he removed his cloak and handed it to Potter. He almost laughed as he watched Potter's fingers feel the texture of the magical silk. Draco looked around the sparse quarters. He would have never guessed that Potter was a minimalist. The portrait on the mantle caught his eye immediately. There was no way he would be discussing anything of importance with Dumbledore around. Draco almost jumped as the old wizard began to stir.

"Good evening, Professor Malfoy," Dumbledore said.

"Good evening, sir," Draco responded. He stood in the middle of the sitting room, not wanting to advance any closer.

"I trust you are well."

"As well as can be expected," Draco replied.

"Splendid then. Harry, I think it would be best to move my portrait in another room. I'm sure you both would be more comfortable without an old busybody around."

Potter chuckled and did as requested. Draco took a deep breath as Potter left the room and sat in one of the chairs near the lit fire. He perused the choices of alcohol and éclairs. He and his Harry would have done more with them than just eat them. 

"Help yourself," Potter said as he came back in. I wasn't sure what you preferred. There's tea in case you were joking about drinking."

"I don't joke about my alcohol, Potter. The brandy would go well with the dessert. Shall I pour for you too?"

"Sure, Professor Malfoy, that would be splendid," Potter said sarcastically. 

Draco laughed, which caught Potter by surprise. "I think we should have at least two before we even start to have a conversation."

"Brilliant plan," Harry replied and sat down in the opposite chair. "If you like, light the candle and warm the glass."

In silence, they ate two éclairs each followed by two snifters of brandy. Draco found the tenseness of the situation enjoyable. Potter was nervous, and knowing he was responsible for it was delightful. His Harry had told him not be too much of an arse about it and to give Potter a chance, which he possibly might do depending on the circumstances. The only thing that did bother him was that Potter didn't look at him with fondness. 

"What is this?" Draco asked as he set down the empty glass and picked up the black glass jar.

"Present for you," Harry said.

Draco looked at him questioningly. He hadn’t expected a present. His Harry never game him presents. "For me? Why, Potter, I didn't know you cared."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Maybe we should have a third before I let you open it?" He poured some more.

"Trying to get me pissed, Potter?"

"Yes."

"Ah, well, it's working. I haven't had dinner. So are you going to tell me why you wanted to have tea again?" he asked, not wanting to reveal how anxious he was to know what was in the black jar.

Harry rubbed the rim of the snifter with his index finger. Draco found himself staring at each circle as it was made, knowing how that finger, or one just like it, felt inside his body. It was then he recognised the brandy had warmed other things besides his mood. He glanced up to break the train of thought that his mind was racing towards. The candlelight's reflection in Harry's glasses became mesmerizing. It startled him when it became clear that Potter was looking at him intently. 

"Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "Right. Well, we should probably set some ground rules."

Draco squinted. "Are we playing a game?"

"No. No games. Just a conversation, but knowing us, it will get testy. So what do you say wizard's honour, no use of wands or fists?"

Draco thought about contesting the rules, but he knew that Potter could take him down magically or physically, pissed or not. "Fine," Draco said and removed his wand from inside his robe pocket and set it on the table. Harry did the same. "So what's in the pot?"

Harry smiled at him, picked the jar up, and handed it to Draco. "Open it and tell me what it is, Potions Master Malfoy."

"Ah, a test," Draco said. "Well, if it will amuse you to see me derive the correct response, I shall open it."

The small chuckle Harry gave wasn't unexpected. His Harry always recognised when he was pretending not to be interested and doing him a favour. Draco had to admit he was beyond curious to know. Carefully, he brought down the gold hinge and lifted the lid. He couldn't hide his reaction. "Fuck, Potter, where did you get this?" Draco burst out. He wanted to dip his finger into the creamy dark crimson concoction. The abundance of gold flecks revealed that it was of the highest quality. He'd never seen anything to compare it to even when he was young. It must have cost a fortune.

"The ingredients are from China, where else? So do you know what it is?"

Draco looked up. There was softness in Potter's eyes, it startled him. "It's Hades Paradox made from Chinese Fireball Eggs," Draco said almost reverently. "But, Potter, this is made from Class A Non-Tradeable Goods. You could lose your career over this."

"I know."

Draco brought it close to his nose. The hot spiciness followed by the cooling mint made his mouth water. He wanted to taste it, but he knew that would be a fatal mistake. "Are you trying to set me up? Have your Aurors arrest me?" Draco asked, not really believing that was what was going on.

"No," Harry responded and lifted his snifter taking another long sip. "It's for your legs."

Draco finger's gripped the container, feeling violated that Potter knew about his legs. He willed himself not to chuck it at Potter. The contents were too valuable in both price and the effect it would have on his legs. It would at least give temporary relief given the small amount. Between the brandy and potion he'd ingested earlier, he was able to control himself.

"You okay?"

Draco closed his eyes. He couldn't bear looking at Potter right now. "How did you know?"

"I'm an Auror, Malfoy. I can figure things out. I'm observant," Harry answered using Draco's own words of evasiveness against him. 

"But why?" Draco asked, biting his lower lip. The scent was drawing him in. He brought it to his nose again and inhaled deeply. He could imagine the thick, whipped ointment coating his legs. He knew it would burn like fire, but then the cooling relief that would come would make it worth it; at least that is what the books had said. It would take more than this to heal the scars, but still, he would have relief. He couldn't fathom how Potter had managed to get hold of the real Hades Paradox made with powdered Chinese Fireball Eggs.

"It's the only cure for your cursed Fiendfyre scars. Mine was slight and didn't have another curse added upon it. The pot will refill four times. Each time is enough for one application. By the time it's empty you will be healed completely, but you have to wait at least...."

"Two weeks between administrations," Draco mumbled and finally opened his eyes. He looked up at Harry. He'd expected a pompous sneer given Potter knew how much this meant to him, but the green eyes showed concern. "Why, Potter? Why would you risk your career for me?"

Harry shook his head and picked up an éclair. "I didn't quite think of it that way."

Draco frowned. "What way were you thinking of it?" He blinked rapidly as Potter's tongue wiped the cream, which had escaped during the first bite, from his lips. Up in his room, he would have done that for Harry. He felt himself on the edge of intoxication; he probably should've eaten dinner. His will fought the effects, but his hand reached for the snifter one more time.

"I was thinking that it might be a way to get you to talk to me. I knew it would have to be a grand gesture. By the way, I made it myself and before you question its potency, Snape gave his approval."

Draco snorted. Shocked that Potter made it and even more surprised that Snape was in on it. "Okay, but what's going to stop me from taking this and never speaking with you again?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. Draco braced himself, that expression had a hidden meaning. This wasn't just a simple grand gesture, this was thought out, which meant Potter had a plan. "You will need someone to apply it, Malfoy. And given that you cannot show it to anyone without ending up arrested, I'm the only one who can do it. As you know the initial burn would stop you from applying it yourself."

"Bastard."

"Guilty."

"Bad plan, though, Potter. I have someone who I can trust. He wouldn't tell a soul."

Harry's left brow arched. "Really? And who would that be? How do I know I can trust him not to out me?"

Draco laughed. "If you trust yourself, you can trust him."

Harry stared at Draco over the flame of the candle between them and cocked a brow. "Would you trust both of us then?"

"No, just one of you."

It was Harry's turn to laugh. "Clever, Malfoy. Look, I'm not going to play this game any longer."

"I thought you said it wasn't a game," Draco taunted. "But then I should've known better. After all, you could've just told me up on the broom, instead you— "

"I what, Malfoy? Asked you for tea? To play a match of Snitch? No, the reason I wanted to talk to you was to give you this gift, and to also ask for a favour. You see, Malfoy, you're not the only one scarred from days gone by. Mine just happen to be on the inside."

Draco wanted to fight back verbally, but his thoughts were clouded. What Potter was saying was true. If his Harry was based on Potter, then Potter was fighting daemons his Harry had overcome in their years together. What he didn't comprehend was how he could help this Potter. "What's the favour, Potter? What's the condition?"

Harry rested his elbow on his knee and his chin on his hand. Draco found the position disconcerting. The green eyes he loved were staring at him as if seeing all of his dark secrets and then, Potter had that stupid grin. He'd kissed that grin off that face many times. 

"I can't go on like this, Malfoy. I'm tired of fighting the world, and I'm tired of fighting myself, and I'm really tired of fighting you."

Draco's insides twisted as the pain carried in the words Potter spoke struck him deep. "Harry, don't go there. Don't fight me."

A soft, sad grin emerged. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't."

Draco sighed and fell back in his chair. The soft velvet cushioning rubbed against his neck. The image of Potter blurred in the darkness of the room, only the candle's flame brightened where they sat. Years of images, of conversations, of fights and tears with Harry paraded through his thoughts. He knew his inhibitions were down, that he was vulnerable, _but— but just maybe_ , Draco thought, maybe Potter deserved to have a life. After all, he had saved Draco's. Before he could censor his own thoughts and words, he blurted them out. "Because, Harry, I know you're not evil. I know why you carry that darkness." The resulting chuckle confused Draco. "What? I'm tr— trying to be fucking serious and you're— you're laughing at me," Draco said defiantly.

"You're pissed, you just called me Harry twice," Harry said while still laughing.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"So."

"So— so tell me, Draco Malfoy, why do I want to smash half the people I meet into smithereens?"

"Cause you're a wanker," Draco said and began to laugh almost uncontrollably.

"Fuck you," Harry answered back and laughed with Draco.

"Ah, now there's an offer one doesn't get every day," Draco responded when he could finally string more than two words together.

"Hmm, are you sure?" Harry responded and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Fuck, Potter, are you making a pass at me? First you give me a gift, then, then, you want to rub Hades Paradox on my legs, and, now you want to fuck me."

Harry started laughing again, removed his glasses, and wiped the tears away. "Good God, Malfoy, I'm already fucking you, or at least someone named Harry is. And if you want him there with me to put on the balm, that's fine by me. Merlin knows it might take two of us to control you."

Draco swayed as his world came to a full stop. He tried to focus on the candle, but there were now two. He heard a voice in the distance. "You okay?" He needed to respond; no, he needed to leave; no, he needed to die. His insides contorted. A hand rested on his forearm. He looked up but only saw a form in the dark. Another hand touched his. He knew he should pull away, but it felt so good. Human skin, calloused human skin, touching his. He didn't resist when his body was pulled forward and up. He crumpled onto the strong shoulder guiding him to another place. He wondered where he was going, but the room was spinning. Red carpets with golden fringe warped under his feet. An arm wrapped around his shoulder helping him to straighten up.

"Close your eyes, Draco. You're okay. I'm with you." 

Draco smiled. He knew that voice, it comforted him in his darkest moments, it carried him through the doldrums of everyday life, and it cried out his name when fucking him until exhaustion drove him to slumber.

"Here we go," the voice said again and sat him down on what felt like a bed. Draco looked around to see where he was. He didn't recognize a thing. A hurricane lamp was lit, and he could only make out a highboy across the room. He wobbled when the strong arms left his side; he tilted, and then was gently guided onto his back. His shoes and socks were removed. He tried fumbling with his robe, but his hands were brushed away and soon it was gone. "Oh, Draco. Fuck, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he mumbled and then shivered as he lay naked. His legs were carefully lifted up and swung up onto the bed. "Cold," he mumbled. Warm, soft sheets and blankets covered him. The world started to slow down. 

The mattress dipped next to him. "Drink this." His head was lifted and warm liquid filled his mouth. He knew the taste and swallowed, but then there was no one next to him.

"Don't leave," he muttered.

"What?"

"Don't leave, Harry, please stay."

The mattress dipped again. A warm hand wiped the hair out of his face.

"Draco, I can't."

He grabbed onto the wrist before the hand went away. "Please, Harry, I know it's not a need or you would be here next to me. But for just once, can I have a want?"

"Draco, you I— I— you don't know what you're saying."

Draco reached out with his other hand and found Harry's shoulder.

"I do. No one can touch me, no one can hold me. Please, it's been five years," Draco begged. His head hurt, but he could now at least turn it without the shadowed walls spinning. Green eyes, wide and dark, were staring at him in confusion. Draco's fingers slid over Harry's shoulder and up to his face. His thumb caressed the cheek nearest him. "Please," Draco whispered.

******************************

Harry knew it was wrong. He knew Draco Malfoy would be horrified when he woke up in his bed wrapped around him. For now, though, Harry found it somewhat amusing. Soft snores came out of the mouth that usually spit out snarky remarks to him. In the first morning light, he could see long light eyelashes, and the pointy nose, which wasn't as perfectly aligned as he thought. His arm ached as it had been wrapped around Draco for most of the night as Draco's head rested on his shoulder. Soft puffs of air hit his cheek with every snore. Draco's arm was possessively wrapped over his waist. For whatever reason, Harry bent his head ever so slightly and kissed the blond wisps of hair on Draco's forehead. He manoeuvred his arm into a more comfortable position and fell back asleep.

******************************

"Don't go," Harry mumbled in his sleep as Draco slipped out of his arms. Draco sat on the bed, looking around confused. He'd never seen this bedroom setting before. The need for a piss had woken him and he stayed there, gathering enough energy to walk to the door he assumed was the loo.

The bathroom caught him off guard. It was smaller than their usual one, and a bit messy. He went about his business and then rinsed out his mouth. It felt and tasted vile. His head hurt, and he had a moment's concern of how he found himself with Harry. The last he remembered was drinking with Potter and Potter giving him the incredible gift. The rest was a blur. He was excited to tell Harry about Hades Paradox, but for now, he just wanted to crawl back into bed.

Harry's body was warm, at least his chest was. Draco frowned seeing the scarlet silk pyjama bottoms. He could see something was written down the leg in large black letters. He lifted the sheet and laughed to himself. _Auror Squad_. He wondered how that fulfilled the need he had had last night. Obviously, he hadn't needed sex or there would have been no bottoms. He nudged in closer and rested his head on the broad chest with its slight spattering of hair. 

Draco ran his fingers up and down Harry's sternum as he pressed soft kisses to his chest. Harry's body shuddered, and he groaned. Draco smiled. This was new; usually Harry would grab his wrist even in his sleep and guide it down to his morning erection. With his palm flat, he moved down further, feeling the warmth of the skin and tightness of the muscles covering Harry's stomach. His fingers slipped below the elastic, and he found his prize. He palmed the tip of the head that was trying to peek out. Harry shivered and moaned while his hips raised just a bit, forcing Draco's hand to slide down the shaft. 

Draco removed his hand and carefully pushed the offending pyjama bottoms lower, and then replaced his hand, circling the width of Harry's cock. He manoeuvred his body down into the warmth of the bed and soon his tongue was circling the emerging head. He slathered the whole shaft with the flat of his tongue, knowing he would have to hurry before Harry woke-up. He was already beginning to moan and his hips started to flex. Draco reached the top and pointed his tongue, swiping across the slit before taking in as much as he could. His hand and mouth worked in unison, as moving up and down, while squeezing and sucking. 

"Fuck, so good," he heard Harry mumble. 

Draco prepared himself for the hand he knew would soon be tangled in his hair to make him take more in. He wasn't disappointed. It would only take a few minutes for Harry to fuck him orally, before he came; he'd been trained.

The heat under the covers almost became unbearable, but Draco continued on. His own moaning joined Harry's, and the slick sound of his hand sliding up and down Harry's strained cock turned him on even more. Harry's fingers suddenly stilled in his hair, and Draco knew his mouth would soon be filled. He gave his final swirls and then a hard suck. The warm liquid spurted down the back of his throat. 

"Fucking good, fucking so good," Harry mumbled as his body shook. 

Draco slowly eased off, letting the final spasms of semen collect in his mouth. He didn't swallow and began his journey by crawling up next to Harry, to share. 

Without warning the covers were thrown back. Draco looked up to see eyes wider than he'd ever seen before. They weren't filled with adoration, but shock. "Fucking hell, Malfoy?"

Draco blinked, his jaw dropped, and Harry's come dribbled down his chin. "Kill me now," he mumbled in disbelief and in terror. He made a run for it by scrambling off the bed, not knowing where he would go or what he would do, but Harry tackled him before he made his escape. The loud crack of his head hitting the floor was the last thing he remembered before his world turned black.

******************************

"Are Bill and Fleur still living at Shell Cottage?"

"Yeah, and they have three kids, Victoire, Dominique and Louis. Charlie, I doubt will ever get married. He's still chasing his dragons. I'm pretty sure he'd kill me if he knew about Hades Paradox."

"I can imagine. I still can't believe you made Hades Paradox and that Snape helped. Damn portraits, they can keep secrets from the castle but we can't keep secrets from them. Well, now that we've been through most of the family, you know who I want the complete rundown on, don't you?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I do. Teddy is great. I was seeing him most every weekend until I came here. I'm going to see him next weekend and staying with Andromeda. He inherited the best of Remus and Tonks. He's a funny kid like Tonks, but he has Remus' kindness with that hint of something else that tells you not to push him too far. Do you want me bring a picture?"

"That would be brilliant and some of the others if you can. I do miss them. So can I ask again about Ginny?"

Harry sighed and drank black coffee from a Gryffindor mug. He was glad to see it after getting to the Room of Requirement, while Disillusioned with his cloak thrown over a levitating Draco. The resulting room was a duplicate of his own living quarters. "I don't really know what to say. We've been on and off again over the last three years. The first two were spectacular, but then as both our careers took off things just went wrong. I didn't like her being away for so long, and she'd get upset when I got too possessive. She's quite independent, as you know, and the idea of her being out there going to Quidditch parties, it's...."

"You became jealous. Just like when she was with Lee."

Harry nodded. "Yep, and along with my notorious inability to express emotions, she'd end up leaving. But she didn't have a problem with my anger situation as long as it wasn't focused on her."

"Do you still love her?"

Another long sip of coffee was taken. "Yes, but not like Ron and Hermione love each other or Molly and Arthur or Bill and Fleur. I don't think we could make it. We'd tear each other apart."

"Well maybe it's because you're too much alike."

Harry grimaced. 

"Stubborn, jealous..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get the point. But what about you and Malfoy?"

"Draco."

"Okay, Draco."

"Good, because I figure once a bloke gives you a blowjob you should call him by his first name."

Harry laughed, and the other Harry laughed. "Oh, God, you should've seen his face." 

"I can imagine."

"So what about you and Draco? All we ever did was fight and sneer at each other."

"Except for last night."

"Yes, except for last night. It was actually almost pleasant. I'm not sure when he blacked out, but when I mentioned I knew about you, he took a severe turn for the worse."

"The last thing I remember was you giving me Hades Paradox. And please, for fuck's sake, don't tell me I dreamt that."

Both Harrys stood up and walked over to the bed by the window and looked down upon Draco. His light grey eyes were rimmed in red. 

"Merlin's hell, please tell me this is a nightmare."

They both shook their heads.

"Hades Paradox?" Draco whispered hesitantly.

Harry walked back to the small table between the two chairs and brought it over to Draco. Draco brought his right hand out from the bundle of covers, and Harry handed it to him. "Not a dream," Harry said.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "And the bj?"

Harry grinned. "It was real enough, but I'm still in a quandary over whether to call it a nightmare."

"Phht, Harry. I bet it was the best one you ever had."

Harry scowled at his counterpart for saying so. "So what if it was. It still was Ma— Draco giving it to me."

Draco groaned and pulled the sheet over his head. "Potter just AK me now. I'd ask Harry, but he can't."

Both Harrys chuckled. Harry stood by the bedside, while his double sat down next to Draco and kissed him on the forehead. "So, my wanton lover, how long have you been awake?"

"Too long," Draco said and rolled over on his side facing the wall. 

Harry walked over and sat on that side of the bed. "How long?"

"Hell, you know this is bollocks seeing both of you. Can't you at least dress differently?"

"Er, this the way the Room dressed me," Harry's double said.

"Fuck. Okay, you're Potter," Draco said pointing to Harry. "And, you're Harry," he finished by pointing to his Harry.

"How long?" Harry asked again.

Draco snorted and sat up. Harry's double, fluffed the pillows behind him and checked the bump on his head.

"I heard you two discussing that this wasn't the first time you'd met. I'm not pleased with either of you. Both of you should be boiled and skinned. I'm sure I could get a good price for Potter leather. 

"And then the long conversation about why Potter thinks he's Dark," Draco said with a sigh. He glanced over at Harry. "You're not Dark, Potter. You just don't know how to handle your negative emotions. But then being raised in a cupboard might have something to do with it. Oh, and I'm sure the Dark Lord played a role. But since his demise, you've blamed all of your angst on him. Harry and I worked through it; it's possible we could help you. You apparently love everyone else in the world but yourself and I happen to love myself, so I can teach you that too. Isn't that what I heard you tell Harry you asked of me last night?"

"So in working out my anger, does that mean I can spank you?" Harry said. Both Harrys laughed.

"No!" Draco yelled and then began to laugh too. "Of course, if you're as good at it as my friend here, I might think about it."

Harry's jaw dropped.

Draco took his lover's hand in his and brought it to his lips and kissed each finger. "You do know I'm teasing."

Harry winced in observing the intimacy between the two. "I do know, but you must also know that while I'm possessive, I won't be possessive when it comes to Potter."

Draco frowned and turned away from him, towards Harry. "Potter, do ignore him, he's an arse. And, yes, I still think you're an arse, too.

"Mutual, Ma— Draco. However, since we have some things out in the open, maybe you can answer a few questions for me."

"Possibly." Draco sniffed, ignoring Harry’s double’s hand moving to his blanketed thigh.

"Do you know what the curse is on you and why? I believe that it was a Founder's Curse cast by Helga Hufflepuff and that you apparently can't go beyond Hogwarts grounds."

Draco chewed on his lower lip for a moment. He turned and looked at the man rubbing his leg. "Tell him what you can," he said and gave Draco's thigh a gentle squeeze.

"I can't tell you everything, but I can say that it could've happened to anyone, it just so happened that it was me who did a certain act that caused the curse to come alive. As to its effects; I can't be touched or it hurts like hell, and as you guessed, I can't leave Hogwarts."

"Is there a counter spell?"

"No, but it can come to an end, but the remedy is quite unlikely given my condition."

"Potter can touch you," Harry's double said.

"What?" Harry asked.

Draco grimaced. He reached out and took Harry's hand in his. "You can touch me, Potter, and it doesn't hurt. It's the first human contact I've had in five years."

"Er, so touching you in some way has something to do with getting you out of this mess."

"Yes, but I can't say anything beyond that."

Harry tapped his foot on the wood floor. "Okay, but in the meantime Hades Paradox can help with your legs, correct?"

"Yes, my legs were almost healed when I tried to leave the grounds the first year. The pain attacked almost immediately, and I had to crawl back through the gates."

"So when would you like to start the treatments?" Harry asked, noting that Malfoy had tested the limits of the spell and that was why he was in such bad shape.

Harry's double leaned forward and wiped the fringe away from Draco's eyes. "Tomorrow, I think we should let his head heal a little more before attempting it. And, Harry, I think you should be here, too." Draco started to speak, but held his tongue, when his Harry put two fingers over his lips. "I'm not sure how the magic in the balm would react to me, and we don't want to waste any of it. Harry, is that okay with you?"

Harry looked at Malfoy. He could tell he was trying to approach the situation calmly, but his eyes looked the same way they did last night when he begged him to stay. "Yeah, I'll do it. I suppose Draco's used to me causing him pain," he replied with a grin.

"Wanker," Draco said and tossed a pillow at Harry. 

He snatched it from the air and tossed it back. "Be nice, Malfoy, or your friend, Harry and I will have to see if you're ticklish. I'm sure I could coax him to restrain you. I always wanted to know why one shouldn't tickle a dragon."

Draco glanced at his Harry. "You wouldn't?" 

He nodded and laughed. "Oh, I most definitely would. You see we've wondered about the school motto since first year."

"Fuck, I'm screwed," Draco whinged and slid back down under the covers.

******************************

Harry sipped coffee from his Gryffindor mug. A pot holding more was at his disposal. It would be a late Sunday night correcting papers and planning out the week's schedule. His thoughts drifted to Malfoy and a part of him hoped that his Harry, as Draco called him, was helping him get through his class work, because he was in no shape to do it alone. When Harry had left the Room of Requirement a few hours before, Draco was still recovering from the morning's application. The balm, Hades Paradox, was appropriately named, Harry thought. Draco's screams were torturous, reminding Harry of those he'd heard during the war. He had done the best he could to go quickly, but also to be thorough. Draco's Harry could only try and soothe Draco with words and let Draco dig his nails into his arms. Harry sighed as he poured another mug full of coffee and unfurled another scroll.

The conversations he'd had with his double and Draco kept him awake once he crawled into bed at half past two. His emotions were his own, that was the crux of the situation. Yes, he'd been affected by Voldemort, but what was left was his own anger, his own sense of wanting revenge, his own thoughts of doing harm, and from what they said, and what Dumbledore had said, his emotions were within normal range. He just needed to learn how to deal with them properly. He leant over and blew out the candle. The stars were shining brightly through the bevelled glass window. His last thought before exhaustion took over was that once he healed internally he could leave, but that Malfoy was probably here forever.

******************************

Harry sat on the windowsill looking out at the first snowfall of the season; it was late in coming. There were only a few weeks of school left before the holiday. The thought that he would be leaving soon saddened him. For the first time in many years, he felt at home. It really shouldn't have surprised him as he thought back; Hogwarts had always felt like home. He missed the daily interactions with Ron and Hermione, that was a given, but their friendship wasn't at stake, it never would be. He'd made new friends, though, with the staff, and he and Neville had grown closer. He'd never had the time to just talk with Neville before. There had been moments in the past where there were words of poignancy they shared, but now they had time to relax and ponder over what happened in the past, what it possibly could have been like if Voldemort never existed, and what their futures held. Well, at least for Neville. Harry's was still undecided.

The snow had started with just a few random flakes, but now it was falling properly: large, heavy flakes that were quickly painting the landscape pristine as they landed. Draco had mentioned that he couldn't walk in the snow but hoped he could this year. Harry hoped so, too. Their relationship had progressed; it had to. One couldn't deliver such pain to another and just walk away. The relief the golden specks in the balm delivered was long in coming and not as great as any of them had expected. Draco said it lowered the pain significantly but many times Harry had to close his eyes or look out the window as Draco took long deep breaths to make it through. The dragon hide gloves Harry wore to apply the ointment had burned through on the fourth application. Only a smidgen of the magical power reached his fingertip and he swore up a storm.

The hot chocolate was warm and laced with peppermint schnapps. He sipped it freely, knowing there would always be more. He felt calm. Draco's Harry had noticed it first. He said it was because Harry was applying pain with care. Harry didn't quite know how to wrap his mind around that. However, he did recognise that it was true. His counterpart had found his calm by working with Draco sexually. The spanking and paddling was his release, but they were controlled and Draco received his own reward from the behaviour. No, it was more than that, Draco's Harry seemed to thrive on both the act and the pleasure it gave.

Harry glanced at the clock. Breakfast would be starting soon and then the mad rush of students would come in, trying to finish their assignments while shovelling in food before the Monday morning bell. He and Draco would have to discuss what came next in their unconventional relationship. Harry knew that issues had arisen between Draco and his Harry. He hadn't been privy to what the situation was but it had been obvious in yesterday's session and over the previous weeks that there was a change. Draco was more acerbic in tone, and his Harry tended to glare and keep quiet. The latter, he knew meant trouble. 

The mug refilled after Harry took the last sip. He called for a blanket and wrapped it around himself. The eastern sky was lightening and the snow was mounding below. He would have to ask Draco about it, as much as he didn't want to. What affected the other Harry could portend issues he might have in the future. As he let his mind wander, and freely play out scenarios and instances that may or may not hold importance, an idea struck him. Harry thought he'd pinpointed the moment things had changed. It was directly following the third application of Hades Paradox, when Draco was writhing in pain waiting for the limited relief to come; he called out for Harry to hold him. Harry's double flinched as he was already doing so. He glanced up at Harry and motioned for him to come closer. Harry did so and Draco latched onto to him. Harry remembered stroking Draco's hair and wiping down his face with a cloth and saying he was sorry over and over, and both ended up shedding tears. Yes, Harry decided, that was when it changed for all of them.

"Potter," Draco said as he sat down next to Harry for Monday morning's breakfast.

"Draco," Harry replied as he folded up the _Daily Prophet_ and set it aside. 

"You'd think they would have grown used to us eating together over the past weeks. I thought we were past being a novelty," Draco said as he speared his sausage.

Harry surveyed the room, looking at all the wide eyes staring at them. He frowned. Unless there was something in today's paper he couldn't imagine why... and then he realized what it was. 

"Draco, act casual, but your leg is right next to mine."

"Shit, Potter, why did you...."

Harry turned in his chair, breaking the contact. "Don't start, Malfoy. You're the one who does it," Harry said teasingly. 

He loved seeing the pink tone on Draco's cheeks when embarrassed. He'd grown accustomed to the touches Draco gave and returned them in kind without thinking. Draco's need for physical contact overrode his initial discomfort and now it was evolving into second nature when Draco was in his presence. He could see the tension leave Draco's jaw and see his shoulders relax when the initial contact was made. Harry thought back to his early morning musings and conjectured that despite what Draco's Harry said early on, maybe he was possessive of Draco, even when it did come to him. The idea that this might be true, gave Harry a feeling he didn't expect: delight. 

"Did the scarring disappear?" Harry asked, seeing if he could lead the conversation into finding out more.

Draco nodded as he sipped his tea. "Almost. Harry said probably a few more days and it would all be gone."

"Good. And the pain?"

"Gone, it was almost fully diminished after the third treatment."

"Fantastic," Harry said. "So I guess there's no need to for me to visit the Room anymore."

Draco's cup fumbled from his fingers. Harry stopped it from smashing to the floor with a flick of his wand. Another flick of his wand vanished the hot liquid that was covering Draco. Draco's cheeks returned to pink.

"I couldn't help but notice that you two were having some difficulties. I'm bollocks at discussing these things usually, but given who it is, I might just have some insight," Harry said, trying not to smirk.

The porridge from Draco's spoon dribbled back into the bowl. He tilted his head to face Harry. Harry was startled by the look of almost desperation he saw in the light grey eyes, which Draco's words of, "I don't need your advice," didn't match.

Harry snorted. "Well, I'm going to give you my opinion anyway."

"Fine, whatever will shut you up the quickest," Draco said and turned back to eating his breakfast.

Harry leant over and whispered in Draco's ear, "I think our friendship is having an affect on your relationship." Draco made an attempt to pull away, but Harry leant over even further knowing that it would cause another scene of interest for the student body if he kept it up. 

Draco straightened up. "Continue," he said with his lips tightened and teeth clenched.

"I think that your Harry is more possessive than either of you expected."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because I know I would be," Harry answered and then scooted his chair back and put his hand on Draco's shoulder giving it a rough squeeze before walking away.

Harry was halfway across the Entrance Hall when Draco called out his name. Harry stopped and turned around. Before he could even wonder what Draco wanted, he smiled at seeing the wizard almost running towards him. His legs were healed. 

"Wait, Professor," Draco gasped out as the students nearby looked their way.

"What is it, Professor Malfoy?" Harry asked nonchalantly.

Draco stepped in close to him. "We should talk."

Harry perceived the seriousness of the situation as Draco's voice had trembled. Harry stepped towards the front door. "Shall we enjoy a morning walk in the snow, Professor Malfoy?"

Draco's eyes brightened. Harry Summoned two winter cloaks and scarves from the staff room nearby. He gave the longest one to Draco, still fearing that his legs might not take the frigid air so well. "Gryffindor scarves," Draco mumbled as he wrapped it around his neck.

"Stupid wizard," Harry replied and transformed the colours on the offending scarf.

Harry didn't know where they were headed; he let Draco take the lead. Knowing that this was Draco's first walk in the snow in many years, Harry refrained from making any suggestions. The paths to buildings and other places of interest outside were magically cleared. Neither of them put up a deflection charm but instead let the snowflakes fall onto their hair and cloaks. Harry shivered and put his hands in his pockets. Visible air escaped from his lips. 

After five minutes of silence, Draco slowed his quick pace and finally spoke, "He's not possessive, Potter. It's me."

"What's you?" Harry asked, also slowing down after almost running into Draco.

Draco didn't respond but continued walking. The snow was falling faster and drifts were starting to form around the trees. Harry bowed his head and followed; he recognized the path, it was to Hogsmeade. The only sound was their boots crunching the snow before it melted. 

"What's you?" Harry asked again.

When the gates of Hogwarts were reached, Draco spun around. "It's me, Potter. He reacts to my needs, and I need him to be like that."

Harry frowned. He hadn't expected to see frozen tear streaks on Draco's face. He withdrew his hand from his pocket and attempted to wipe them away. He could feel Draco's warm breath on his wrist. A swift turn of Draco's head and there were warm lips kissing his hand. Harry looked into the eyes that were beseeching his for a response. "Why?" Harry asked for a third time looking for more answers.

The snowflakes were dusted from his shoulders before Draco grasped his chin, leant forward and kissed him. Harry knew he should back away, knew this wasn't right. In any reality he could imagine, he would not be standing in the snow having Draco Malfoy kiss him, but Draco's lips were warm and enticing as they worked his lower lip. With desire replacing logic, Harry parted his lips.

Draco's pointed tongue carefully explored his open mouth, as if he was afraid Harry would bite down. Harry knew where the apprehension came from; he put his hand at the back of Draco's neck and pulled him forward. Warm air exhaled from their noses. A soft whimper emanated from Draco, it struck like lightning at Harry's core. His own lips and tongue met Draco's with not so gentle force and he took vigorous steps forward, forcing Draco's back against the frozen bars that held him in. 

Harry didn't know the need or the want had been so strong. How they'd been dancing around these feelings until this moment. His hands loosened the silver and green scarf and then his lips slipped off Draco's and travelled across his cheek to the warmth of his neck. Draco sighed, his legs separated, and his hands moved to Harry's waist, guiding him to stand between his legs. Slowly, they rocked with thick heavy clothes between them. Draco tilted his head, giving Harry more access to more skin, which Harry took advantage of and kissed the expanse before opening wide and sucking in as much as he could.

"I want you," Draco mumbled between small pants. "That is what's wrong."

They both jumped as silver mist of a cat appeared on Harry's shoulder. "Professors, the bell has rung."

"Shit," Draco yelped and pushed Harry away. Harry laughed and chased after a running Draco Malfoy.

******************************

>   
> _Ginny,_
> 
> _I'm sorry to say I will be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas. I'm doing well and I believe I have found some semblance of peace. I hope you understand. Someday we'll meet and reminisce about what was and what could have been._
> 
> __
> 
> I wish you well, my love,  
>  Harry

Harry sealed the note. He watched the owl leave his room. The brief moment of regret and apprehension passed quickly. He shut the window as a gust of frigid air quickly lowered the temperature of the room. He glanced at the clock. It was near the time he usually saw Neville for Friday night tea and discussed the week's events, but tonight, he would be going someplace else. The invitation was on his desk when he returned from dinner. It was in his writing.

Draco had been absent from dinner and that gave Harry a moment of worry. The past week had been no different than the previous ones. They had breakfast and an occasional dinner where bantering was called for. By the second week, the students and colleagues seemed unfazed by the turn of events. Their touches were more discreet, but Harry felt they were more meaningful. Before they were casual, now Draco's fingers stayed a bit longer on his shoulder, his shoulder rubbed up against his more often, and then there had been the one moment this morning where Draco's hand covered his as they both reached for the _Daily Prophet_ , which was lying on the Head Table. Just the one finger caressing down his hand caused Harry to release his claim on the paper. It later sustained a myriad of fantasies throughout the teaching day.

Where it was all leading, he couldn't fathom. For once in his life, he was just letting things happen. Letting events, touches, looks, and words be enjoyed for what they were and not reading meanings into them. Draco's declaration of attraction hadn't disturbed him. It caused a myriad of emotions but none of them were of the kind where he wanted to send a stray hex Draco's way. In the hour before sleep, when he stretched out on his couch near the fire reading a book before bed, that is when he admitted that he wanted Draco too. He'd really only touched him with the thick dragon hide gloves. Initially, he was overwhelmed with the pain his strokes up and down the scarred long legs brought, but even through the screams, Draco had thanked him. It was only the last time that Harry had stopped apologizing. Draco's eyes had searched his as if trying to instil the guilt back into him, but when a budding erection formed in his midst of pain, Harry recognized his mistake.

He straightened his tie and ran his hands down his formal scarlet robes before leaving his quarters. Why Draco's Harry wanted him to wear his Auror robes he didn't know, but the indulgence was a small one.

******************************

"He's leaving his room."

Draco took a long sip from the cold Butterbeer and then placed it on the bedside table. A quick look at Harry as they both sat on the edge of the bed told him that Harry wasn't nervous. Not that he had ever appeared that way since the first year, but if ever he was going to again, then tonight would be the night. The Harry Potter that was approaching the room, Draco was confident, was as apprehensive as he was. He tapped the wooden floor with his bare feet. Despite the cool air, he was on the verge of sweating while wearing only the requested Slytherin robes and tie.

The sound of cracking knuckles brought Draco's attention to the fingers that had caressed him through so many nights. He'd never seen Potter do it, but assumed he did. So many of the two Harrys' mannerisms were identical, but some reactions were unnervingly dissimilar. Draco couldn't decipher whether it was based on the limitations of the Room of Requirement or the years of experiences that separated the two. Potter's reactions were not always predictable. Draco shivered, cooling his body instantly as he remembered being shoved up against the frozen bars and having Potter, _the Potter_ move against him in tandem. It felt fucking good, but undeniably wrong.

Draco leaned into his Harry. The soft chocolate cashmere sweater was warm. "You okay?" Harry asked as he reached up and massaged the nape of Draco's neck. The strong fingers pressing into the right spots gave him a moment's relaxation.

Draco nodded and gave a weak smile. "You're excited. I can tell," Harry whispered in his ear. Draco bit his lower lip. "It's okay. I would be disappointed if you weren't."

"I— I don't understand. Potter said he would be jealous if it was him, but you're not," Draco replied, part of him ached that Harry didn't feel this emotion for him after all these years.

With thumb and finger pressed into the sides of Draco's neck, Harry pulled Draco down onto the bed and leant over him. Draco stared into the beautiful green eyes he never tired of, they were teasing, determined, and compassionate all at the same time. He fondly remembered when each of them made its appearance adding to the realism of the situation. Warm lips rubbed across his. "I can't be jealous, Draco. He's more me than I am." Draco frowned. A quick lick from Harry wiped it away. "I want him to want you; I want you to want him. Needs, yes, but _wants_ earned and fulfilled, Draco, are what make life special."

Draco pre-emptively moaned as he saw the thick dark eyelashes hidden behind glass meet, knowing his mouth was about to be claimed. Draco closed his own eyes and melted as he surrendered to the lips covering his. Harry's hand grasped Draco's robes pulling up the voluminous material until it was fully gathered at his waist, leaving him exposed.

"Raise your knees."

Draco complied. His toes clenched the edge of the bed, the silver-thread sheets filled in empty spaces. One finger touched the slit of his emerging head; his cock jumped. Methodically the finger traced the engorging vein down his shaft to his tightening balls. More fingers joined the first and played with each stone. He moaned into the mouth still overpowering his. Harry's middle finger stretched down pressing the perineum span.

"Fuck," Draco mumbled, pulling away from the kiss. "He's going to be here," he added and reached down grabbing Harry's wrist.

"Let go."

"But...."

"Let go," Harry demanded; his eyes narrowed. "I'm acting upon both of your needs."

Draco instantly released his hold. Harry's nose rubbed against his. "He wants your body, Draco, and he needs to know that his body can excite yours, his hands and lips can bring you to the point of incomprehension. But, he has to earn the right. I won't let him hurt you out of anger. I don't want you two to go through what we did those first few times. Understand?"

Draco lifted his bum off the sheets, enticing Harry's finger to find his hole. Harry grinned as he circled the entrance teasingly and pecked Draco on the lips. "Dry?" he asked. Draco reached down and brought Harry's hand to his mouth, sucking in the middle finger until it slipped in and out of his lips with ease. 

"Oh, that's good, Draco," Harry taunted and moved it to Draco's waiting entrance. The Room of Requirement's door opened. Draco didn't notice; his body was being penetrated.

******************************

All speculations of what to expect when the door opened were destroyed by the scene before Harry. The flash of red threatened his equilibrium. Never had such visceral emotions of anger and desire flooded through him and competed for dominance. Before he could say a word or take a step forward an invisible force stopped all movement. His mind raced for a reason, only Draco could cast the _Petrificus Totalus_ spell, but it hadn't been him. This felt different; Harry wasn't completely immobile. It was an invisible barrier. The knowledge that it was the castle preventing him came to him suddenly. It wanted him to watch, not to interfere. Raw memories of Dumbledore and Draco on a tower emerged. He took deep breaths, attempting to manage some semblance of control over his body, over his need to take action, his need to throw the imposter off and beat the shit out of him and then take his place with Draco. He could almost feel it was his finger sliding in and out of Draco. He wanted to know what it felt like to not only be inside Draco but to elicit those responses.

The aura of red diminished gradually. Harry's jaw tightened with resolve. He knew the lesson: it was to maintain control at all costs, only then, maybe then, would he be allowed to move forward. He closed his eyes, released his grip on his wand and let it drop to the ground. He took one step forward and then two. His pulse quickened as he moved closer, and the barrier returned. Without fighting the invisible wall, he stood still and observed. 

"Fuck me, Harry," Draco cried. 

"No, not until Potter gives his okay." 

Draco's bum dropped to the bed. "Shit," Draco whinged and then lifted his head to see Harry standing a few feet away. Their eyes met. Harry didn't blink. Draco looked back and forth between the two, his erection deflating with each glance.

"Still want me to fuck you, Draco? Or do you want him? I do believe you'll have to ask the first time. After that you're his."

Harry smirked. This Harry knew him. He knew that asking permission was the polite thing to do. The castle, Harry realised wasn't in control, he was. 

"No, both of you," Draco said almost pleadingly.

Harry's double laughed and then kissed Draco on the cheek. "I don't think Potter shares. You know the chest monster thing I mentioned years ago."

Draco gave a quick smile, but it faded rapidly. "I can't choose! Don't make me choose!"

Harry wanted to yell out, seeing Draco's despair, and tell him that he didn't have to choose, but he knew it wasn't the truth and the castle wouldn't let him even if he tried.

"Don't worry, Draco, I won't let you go that easily. Only when you're both ready."

Harry's eyes narrowed as his counterpart turned to him and winked. Harry wanted to hex him but his wand lay on the ground behind him. Taking steps backwards, he surmised, meant failure. He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly.

"You can talk, Potter. But only certain words will be accepted. You tell me what you want me to do with this Slytherin, and I'll do it." Draco's eyes widened. His Harry's hand began stroking his calf slowly. "Do you want me to fuck him hard? Spank his arse red? I mean, after all, think of all the shit he put you through. Think of all the times you saved his arse and then you even healed his legs. Was there ever an official thank you afterwards?"

Harry began to silently laugh. He knew this game; he was being enticed to hurt Draco. Another test. "Kiss Draco and do it gently," Harry said, his voice carried through the room. He watched as both complied with his request. 

"Stop," he ordered when he saw Draco's prick begin to twitch. Harry took the remaining steps forward. His low-heeled boots echoed as he advanced. Both occupants of the bed looked up at him. He almost smiled when he saw his double show a hint of surprise that he'd learn the lesson so quickly. He sat down on the other side of Draco but looked over at the other. "Enough games. I get the test so far, Harry. Tell me what is required; tell me what it would take to give Draco what he needs, because you're right, I won't be sharing after tonight."

Draco's eyes flitted back and forth between the two. Harry turned his gaze towards him. "I'll only share once, Draco, then the decision is yours."

"I— I don't...."

"Shhh, Draco. He knows we have a history, but you both know we don't have a future, or at least a sustainable one."

Draco's eyes narrowed. He flicked the hand off his leg, sat up, and marched towards the door. His robes flowed back down almost covering his bare feet. "I don't want either of you then," he said petulantly.

Harry laughed in unison with his double. 

"Get back over here or I _will_ smack your arse," Harry said.

Draco spun around. "Which one of you said that?"

Both of them cocked their right eyebrow.

"Why? Does it matter?" they both said at the same time, surprising Harry how matched they seem to be in thought and gesture.

"Oh, fuck, stop it."

"Stop what?" Harry asked as he put his leg on the bed, bending his knee. He adjusted his robes revealing black trousers tucked into his knee high boots. His head jerked up when he heard an audible gulp.

"Draco likes the outfit," the other Harry said.

"Ah, I was wondering why it was requested," Harry replied. "I'm guessing something to do with authority, eh?"

"I've had enough of this." Draco snarled and reached down for Harry's wand, which was near his feet. Harry flew off the bed and tackled Draco to the floor and landed on top of him. The struggle was short lived as Harry quickly yanked the wand out of Draco's hands, rolled off him, and in one quick motion was back up on his feet.

He straddled Draco's hips and pointed his wand towards Draco's heart. "Don't you ever touch my wand again, Malfoy, or you can kiss your balls goodbye. Understood?"

Harry could see the grey eyes trying to read the sincerity of his threat. "Understood, Potter," Draco answered. 

"Good. Now why don't you tell me what your problem is? Unlike the Harry over there, I'm not a mind reader. You're going to have to start using some words."

Draco turned his head to the side, towards his Harry still on the bed. He sighed. "I can't choose."

Harry manoeuvred his feet, squeezing Draco's hips between them. "Look at me, Malfoy." Draco turned back to face Harry. Harry could see the trouble Draco was in. "Draco, I won't make you choose tonight. As Harry said, neither of us are ready. You and I have had one kiss; you and he have had five years. I'm afraid I would lose and I dislike losing more than I dislike sharing. Now I'm not sure what my double has in mind for either of us at this point, but I do know that we both have free will. If I want to kiss you, I'll kiss you. Not because you need me to, but because I want to. If you like having your arse paddled until it's red, I can do that, and, yes, I'll admit that I'll probably enjoy doing it and enjoy your reaction to me doing it. If you...."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I get the point, Potter," Draco drawled and then lifted up his arm, extending his hand out. "If we must continue this long drawn-out conversation, then I would prefer to lie on something more comfortable."

Harry sniggered and met Draco's hand with his own. He pulled him up and walked him over to the bed, only then did he release Draco's hand. Harry watched with interest as the other Harry’s arm went around Draco's shoulder and pulled him tight. "Better?" 

"Of course. My tantrums are notoriously short-lived," Draco said with an impish grin. "Right, Potter?" Draco added and turned to look at Harry.

Harry shook his head. "That's not quite my recollection, but if you say so."

"I do say so, and therefore it is true," Draco replied. The hand on his shoulder moved to his head and ruffled his blond hair. "Knock it off, Harry. The hair only gets mussed during sex."

Both Harrys laughed. Draco sneered at each of them before falling back on the bed. He loosened his tie and then threw his arms over his head. "Didn't I hear something about sharing tonight?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat, and his cock perked up. He looked over at his counterpart, who was looking at him. They both shrugged and dropped down next to Draco. Harry bent his arm and rested his head on his hand. For the first time since he'd entered the room, he felt shy. Draco was looking at his Harry, whose hand had wandered to the top of Draco's robe-covered knee. 

"I think a kiss is in order," Harry's double said and leant over and began snogging Draco. Immediately, Harry felt out of place, he started to sit up when a long arm reached over to him. Draco's hand began touching his body as if searching for something. He found Harry's free hand and brought it to his other knee. Harry didn't need further inspiration and began collecting the loose black material in his hand. Draco moaned when Harry finally reached smooth skin.

The kiss stopped, and Draco turned to Harry. "May I?" he asked.

Harry reached up and tossed his glasses to the side. "Yes," he responded and leant down to steal a kiss of his own. 

Draco's lips were wet and full. They parted the instant the tip of Harry's tongue pushed forward. Harry's hand touched more skin and soon he was stroking the newly healed soft skin on Draco's thigh. Each upward movement brought him closer to Draco's groin, the tips of his fingers brushed over his double's hand. Without hesitation they intertwined their fingers and massaged each of Draco's legs as one. Harry tried to process which feeling was better: touching Draco or kissing him. Draco's tongue teasingly fought against his but never dominated, only enticing Harry to kiss harder. Harry gave up on deciding and surrendered to the experience. 

Somehow his own hand was solo again as he reached Draco's balls. A hand came up and loosened his tie. He didn't know whose it was, nor did he care. He cradled Draco's sac in his palm and let the pad of his thumb caress each hardening stone. The newness of feeling another man's testicles was exciting. Draco groaned into his mouth. Black hair tickled Harry's cheek; he briefly opened his eyes to see Draco's Harry sucking on Draco's neck while his hand was busy undoing the silver snake buttons on Draco's robe. When Draco's white, scarred chest was exposed, Harry couldn't stop himself from moving away from Draco's mouth and down to his chest, licking along each scar he'd made as a child. He knew he was hard, and that his dick wanted attention, but for right now, pleasing Draco seemed more important.

Harry's thumb extended higher touching the base of Draco's cock. Slowly, he broke the kiss. "May I?" Harry whispered.

Eyes lit with desire met his. Draco spread his exposed legs and whispered. "Yes, but never ask again." The other Harry moaned, hearing the words, and ravished Draco's mouth.

Without further hesitation, Harry wrapped his fingers around Draco's hardened cock and began pumping up and down. Another hand wrapped over his, subtly leading him into a rhythm and intermittently varying the strength of the grip. Draco's hips rose from the bed in unison with the two hands fisting his prick. Harry manoeuvred closer to Draco. One leg wrapped around Draco's. The kissing taking place above Harry's head stopped. "More," he heard Draco beg. "More."

Harry was about to ask, when he heard the other Harry say, "The boots, Potter. He likes leather." Harry lifted his head and chuckled. Both of the other two looked at him and smiled. Draco nodded. Harry ran his soft Dragon skin boot up and down Draco's calf and lower thigh. He almost started laughing when Draco's eyes rolled back and his mouth opened, vocalising a continuous moan. It stopped when Harry abruptly removed his hand from Draco's cock. He reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a stiff pair of brown-leather, fingerless gloves. 

"You want me to wear them?"

Draco's eyes widened. "Fuck, yes, but first..."

"Shhh," the other Harry said. His hand caressed Draco's chest and abdomen. "We'll satisfy you, Draco."

Harry couldn't quite make out what they were discussing but the situation rapidly changed as Draco sat up, pulled his robes off over his head, and tossed them to the floor. His Slytherin tie was the only garment that remained. 

"Will you?" Draco asked and rolled over onto his stomach, his bum perched high over the edge of the bed. Harry looked over to see green eyes brightened by a mischievous look.

"Go ahead, Potter, you know you want to. The fantasy has been driving you crazy for months."

"With the gloves?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too inexperienced.

"Yes, with the gloves. Stand up. Draco will guide you, but if you hear the word _glory_ you must stop."

Harry rose up off the bed and stood at Draco's side, bracing his feet by separating his legs. He couldn't resist running his hand over the creamy white skin. Draco shivered. Harry smiled and then trailed the leather gloves over the same path. Draco moaned. Harry's double lay down in front of Draco and held his hands. 

At first, Harry wasn't sure he could do it. He didn't have the anger within him, but then it struck him, the truth. He didn't need anger to do this. He wanted to do this, and previously he had used anger as his excuse. He raised his hand and swatted Draco's bottom with force. The gloves barely left a pink mark. He tried again, swinging his arm further back, and Draco moaned as the leather struck him again. Still the mark was hardly visible. 

Harry stopped and moved to stand directly behind Draco. He held the edge of the gauntlets in one hand and the open-ended tips in the other. He swirled the gloves until they were intertwined and then flicked his wrist and smiled when he heard the smack. 

"Fuck," Draco yelped. 

Harry did it again, admiring each red streak. Draco began to groan with each snap of the gloves. Harry didn't know where his mind went, but the feeling of such power and the sound of pleasure accompanying each swat brought him peace. His daemon was being controlled. He stopped after ten. Draco began to stand up, Harry's jaw tightened. He dropped the gloves and raised his hand and spanked Draco hard. 

"Fuck, yes," Draco cried. Harry smiled at the other Harry while shaking his hand because it stung. He repeated it two more times. He could only imagine what it felt like for Draco. 

"Enough," Harry said and let his hand run over the reddened welts. He couldn't believe how beautiful he suddenly found Draco's arse. He bent down and softly kissed each cheek and then rubbed his face on the red-striped skin to feel the emanating heat. 

Draco whimpered and slid down off the bed onto the floor in front of Harry. His hands grasped Harry's boots, and he pulled himself up by grabbing higher and higher on Harry's trousers until he was up on his knees. His fingers found their way to the laces of Harry's traditional clothing. He looked up at Harry. Harry tried not to gulp or show any expression when he saw the look of almost adoration in Draco's eyes 

"May I?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded. 

Draco's fingers were nimble despite a slight shakiness. Harry took a deep breath as his trousers were opened and he finally found some relief. Draco's hands carefully pulled the trousers and pants down with what Harry considered to be reverence. His cock was fully erect and sticking straight out, waiting to be touched. 

"Fuck, it's beautiful," Draco whispered and, without anymore warning than that, he wrapped his lips around the burgeoning head. Harry heard a chuckle coming from the bed when his knees began to buckle. A hand reached out and guided him to sit on the bed.

The morning memories of Draco doing this to him before were hazy, but what Draco was doing now with his tongue and lips was crystal clear. Never had anyone given such attention to Harry's cock. Draco alternated between laving the shaft, swirling his tongue over the head, sucking on it. Draco's guttural sounds were sending him over the edge. Harry braced himself by reaching back with one hand; the other found its way to Draco's blond sweaty locks, which he wrapped around his fingers. He wasn't sure how long he could last, but he wanted it to go on forever. 

His vision was blurry but he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A naked body resembling his was now next to him with a palm held out. "May I?" the voice asked. Harry looked at what the hand held, an open pot of balm, and he nodded. The quick kiss to his cheek was unexpected. 

Harry groaned with frustration as Draco's steady pace was interrupted. Draco's body was lifted from kneeling to standing and the warm, wet mouth broke away. 

"Fuck!" Draco yelled out. 

Harry tugged on his blond hair, pulling hard until Draco was forced to look up at him as his double fingered his way into Draco's sore arse. Harry held the stare and became mesmerised as he watched Draco work through the intrusion and pain. 

"Just do it!" Draco cried out through clenched teeth. 

The transition from pain to pleasure was clear and instantaneous. Primal grunts emerged as Draco's body was pushed forward farther into Harry's lap, only to be pulled back just as quickly. Draco looked at him pleadingly. Harry didn't know where it came from but all he could do was smirk and push Draco's head back down and cried out when the warm, wet mouth took his cock in again.

"Fucking hell, Potter, you have to feel this. Do you want to feel this?" 

Harry locked eyes with his double. Draco Malfoy was between them taking them both in at once. Just thinking about that scene alone would have had Harry coming while wanking, but Draco's inability to set a pattern, a pace, disallowed Harry from reaching that point. He was satisfied, though, with just having Draco trying to accommodate both of them while moaning in ecstasy in trying to do so. Harry froze for a moment and then gently wiped the damp white hair off Draco’s face. Grey eyes opened and looked up at him. Harry smiled. 

"Yeah, I do," Harry whispered.

"May I finish?"

"Yeah," Harry moaned loudly as Draco closed his eyes and took his cock further down his throat. Harry yanked on Draco's hair once again, forcing Draco to relinquish his prick. "Go ahead," Harry said. Draco was soon rocking back and forth frantically; his knees wobbling with each hard thrust. "You want me?" Harry asked. 

"Yes," Draco whinged. Draco's body suddenly stilled then sudden jerks had him crying out. Harry heard the other Harry's voice making familiar sounds, and he saw white liquid shooting from Draco's prick, streaking across the wooden floor and reaching the tips of his boots. Draco went limp in his lap. Harry used the sleeve of his scarlet robe to wipe the sweat off Draco's face, and for the first time, he noticed the small thin scar across Draco's jaw line. 

With tenderness, both Harrys manoeuvred Draco to the bed. He struggled up to the pillows and lay on his side. His Harry crawled behind him, stroked his arm and then reached over and gently removed the silver and green tie. "Join us, Potter," he said.

Even after what they had just been through, a jolt of insecurity ran through him. He turned and looked at Draco who would have been purring if he were a cat. 

"Thank you, Harry," Draco whispered and then patted the spot next to him with his hand. 

A piece of Harry's heart melted. Draco had finally said the words without coercion and used his name. He removed his boots and the rest of his clothing, folding them up and setting them upon the floor. Shivers went down his spine as short nails lightly scratched his back. He turned and glanced back at Draco. 

"Can I have your tie?" Draco asked.

"My tie?" Harry questioned. He looked over at his double, who was shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Sure," Harry replied and handed Draco his scarlet and black tie, with the Ministry of Magic insignia stitched in gold. Draco slipped it through his fingers feeling the silk and then handed it over to the man behind him. Harry slowly reclined on the bed, facing Draco.

Draco brought the back of his hand up to Harry's face and stroked his cheek and jaw. "Do you still want to fuck me?" he whispered.

Harry gave a small grin and leant over and kissed Draco on the lips. "No, I don't want to fuck you," he said softly back. Draco winced. Harry brought his own hand up to the scar he'd seen earlier and traced it with his finger. "I want to do something more than that to you."

******************************

The warmth of both bodies surrounding him was almost stifling, almost. Draco yawned and then grinned, seeing both Harrys' arms wrapped possessively over his chest and waist. He almost laughed when he noticed the ties still knotted around the bedposts. His arse spasmed at the memory of Harry taking him the first time with more care and tenderness then he had ever imagined, but the second time, when the ties were around his wrists and the headboard bars, had been beyond his fantasies. His Harry would take him brutally, but only out of Draco's need. This had been Harry's want wrapped up with his. Both of them so spent, that another orgasm was long in coming. His Harry had been there, encouraging them both, kissing Draco at first and then taking his cock in his mouth. Draco moaned audibly as he remembered the taste his Harry had shared with him, which then led Draco sharing it with Potter...Harry. How could he choose? His mood suddenly went solemn.

Harry's leg wrapped over his and he snuggled in closer. "Love you," he mumbled. 

Draco's heart stilled. There was no way, he thought, that Potter meant it. He was probably thinking of the Weasley witch, but then Harry had told him that the relationship had failed. 

_Love you_ , Draco said to himself, the words his Harry could never say and never mean. He turned his head and kissed his Harry on the nose and then did the same to Potter. Cautiously, he unwrapped the arms holding him in. He hissed in pain as he sat up. His bum, he was sure, was red and his hole had been thoroughly abused. It felt brilliant. He lifted Harry's leg off him, manoeuvred to the bottom of the bed and crawled off. He laughed to himself as both Harrys moved towards each other and, he guessed, would soon be entangled. 

Paper, quill, and ink appeared, and after putting his robes on, he wrote a note and left it on the bed.

>   
> _My Harrys,_
> 
> _In my fantasies I would have stayed this morning and we would have had another round or two. That is after you fed me breakfast in bed._
> 
> _I have some thinking to do and I require time alone. I beg both of you not to worry, or for you, Potter, to disturb me. I will come to each of you when I've thought things through. And if either of you think I will not be thinking of you constantly, you are mistaken. My arse and throat have been thoroughly abused by each of you. I shall have to tell my students I've been ill and have lost my voice. Bastards, both of you!_
> 
> __
> 
> Draco

******************************

Harry sat by the fireplace in his quarters drinking hot, spiced mead. His stomach was full from the Christmas Eve dinner. He had had way too many extra helpings of the roasted goose. He'd hoped Draco would have attended, but his spot at the table remained empty, just as it had for the previous two weeks. He'd only caught a glimpse of his white hair one morning when he entered the Great Hall early the previous Saturday morning. He eyed the Marauder's Map on the mantle. He kept it there, within reach, but had yet to actually use it. Draco had asked for his privacy, and Harry had decided that morning when they'd both read the note to honour it.

It had been a shock to wake up to his own face looking at him bleary-eyed. They'd both laughed as they disentangled their arms, Harry's with leather gloves. They had stayed and talked as they lay in bed. It was Draco who had taught them both to embrace all facets of their character, even the darkest parts they tried to hide and not admit to. Draco spurred them on and then not only accepted what the not-so-hero-of-the-wizarding-world couldn't love about himself, but made a safe place for him to explore it. Draco's Harry told of how, over the years, the fierceness of the negative aspects diminished or rather it became more incorporated into the rest of his personality. Some might consider it a flaw, but he thought it was just him. Harry knew he hadn't got that far yet, but he understood. His counterpart also mentioned that he believed that, once Harry could love himself like he loved so many others, his confidence would improve, which would lead people to stop challenging him. If he projected confidence, then he would be more duly respected. Harry nodded in agreement; it wasn't anything that Dumbledore hadn't already said. The conversation ended with Draco's Harry telling him that Draco really didn't have a choice to make, that eventually he wouldn't be needed. Harry's gut wrenched thinking that the person lying in bed with him would just disappear. A kiss on the cheek and then a push out of the bed helped.

He glanced up at the sleeping portrait on his mantle and gave Dumbledore a silent salute. Tomorrow he would go up to the Headmistress's office and give a proper one to him and Snape. Harry smirked, thinking back on how well he and Snape had worked together, making Hades Paradox. The snide remarks were still there, but they didn't cut very deep anymore. If Harry hadn't known better he would have sworn there was even a hint of affection. 

"Harry! You're needed in the Room of Requirement," Dumbledore's voice boomed out, causing Harry's drink to slosh over the edge.

"What is it?" Harry yelled as he dashed for the door.

"Just go and hurry!"

Harry ran through the maze of stairs and hallways and reached the door, shoving it open. He blinked furiously at the vision of himself, naked, staring out a window all alone. The room was devoid of all furnishings. 

"What's going on?" Harry asked as he darted across the room. It was then he noticed Harry was only partially visible; he was disappearing.

"It's your choice, Potter. It's your choice."

Harry shook his head. "What choice? Did Draco make a choice?"

"No, at least not consciously."

Harry reached out his hand and touched his shoulder. Skin was no longer a barrier; Harry's fingers were immersed in some magical mixture no longer resembling flesh. He didn't withdraw, though. While the texture was horrific, the magic was spectacular.

"It's yours, Harry. I'm made of the magic you and Draco made together. That is you from five years ago." Harry was stunned. His other hand reached out and grasped the fading forearm. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes," Harry gasped out, mesmerized by the complexity and depth of what he was experiencing. 

"And it will all be l— lost," Harry's double choked out. Harry tilted his head and looked into the green eyes that were filled with tears. "For the first time in five years, Potter, I can feel sadness. The castle's magic has been reabsorbed; this is all that's left, Harry and Draco."

"What can I do?" Harry asked, feeling hopeless about the situation. 

"Merge with me, Harry, merge with me. You'll have the memories, the feelings, the special magic we shared. This could have been you, if you and Draco had been locked up in a room for five years. You wouldn't have killed each other, Harry. You would have fallen in love."

Harry stepped back, the withdrawal of his hands made him cry out in pain. He felt as if his hands had been chopped off. "Does Draco know?"

His double crumpled to the floor. "No. He wouldn't allow it if he did. But I know you Harry. Fuck, I am you! You— you wouldn't want to let this go."

"Did you call Dumbledore?" Harry asked directly.

"No. I didn't know you were coming. The castle must have alerted him. It can feel my pain as it's starting to absorb me."

"Fucking hell!" Harry cried out as he dropped to the floor. He pushed Draco's Harry over and lay on top of him. The magic coursed through him and surrounded him. Arms and legs intertwined and tongues met for a first and final kiss. He felt love as if for the first time, not only for Draco, but for himself. 

"Thank you," a voice whispered. He didn't know if he said it or the other for now it didn't matter. They were one.

******************************

The room was dark. Only the moonlight from the window helped Harry recover his glasses. Slowly he rose to his knees, grasping the stone ledge of the window to draw himself up. The grounds outside the window were covered in fresh snow and glistened with the moon's rays. He took a few deep breaths and sat down on the ledge, trying to reconcile what had happened. He wasn't sure how long he'd been unconscious on the floor, but then he saw students running around outside, playing in the snow. It couldn't be too late.

Familiar thoughts and images, yet not belonging to him, rushed through his brain. He closed his eyes and followed the path they led him on. So many fights with Draco, so many misunderstandings, so much anger between both of them, and then slowly the transition began. They learned from each other, and by the end, the relationship was filled with mutual respect and so much joy. However, the limitations of Draco's Harry were always present. 

Harry sighed, wishing for a cup of tea. It appeared on the sill next to him. He warmed his hands and inhaled the steam. There was something else, though, something on the edge of the memories that he couldn't quite get into focus. He sipped from the cup and tried to break through the barrier hiding whatever it was. 

"Help me, Harry," he mumbled. 

The china teacup shattered as it hit the floor. The spell, the curse became known. A smile broke over Harry's face, recognising that little Slytherin part of him. Draco's Harry had snuck the information in when they merged. He knew the solution, and there was little doubt that Draco would be free. He laughed as he tore across the Room of Requirement and exited the door with a bang.

He stopped running as he reached the Slytherin domain. Students were making their way to the common room. They were laughing, and their cheeks were ruddy from being outside. They stepped aside and gave Harry a questioning look as he made his way down the tunnel towards their Head of House's quarters. 

"Keep moving or I'll tell him you're out and about," Harry said teasingly.

Harry banged on the old wooden arched door. He chuckled when he heard grumbling on the other side. The door opened a crack. "Potter, what...?"

Harry pushed the door open making Draco stumble backwards. Harry grabbed Draco's dressing gown stopping him from falling, and with a quick turn, had him against the warmed stone wall next to the door, which he slammed shut with his foot. He meant to say something first, but Draco's mouth was opening to speak and he couldn't stop himself from claiming it. This, Harry recognized, was a common ritual between the two. This was how Draco was often greeted when he entered the Room of Requirement. Draco stood still and refused to kiss back, but his resistance, Harry could tell, was half-hearted. 

"Want you, Draco," Harry murmured between kisses. 

His body tingled when Draco's hands grasped his biceps and pulled him closer. The warmth of Draco's breath and the scent of spiced wine incited him to kiss harder. He found he loved Draco's tongue pretending to fight his, but acquiescing when Harry pressed harder. A simple moan from the back of Draco's throat drove Harry to gently clamp down and suck on the tongue that had given him so many verbal lashings in the past. Draco's legs separated, and Harry filled the space. One hand lowered, Harry groaned with appreciation as Draco's blue silk dressing gown parted when he grasped Draco's erection. Within seconds, his palm could feel a wet spot emerging 

"Want you," Harry mumbled again and fell to his knees. He raised the gown and found the prize he was looking for. "Hold it," he ordered Draco, handing him the silken cloth. 

"Fuck, Potter!" Draco cried out as Harry took his cock in his mouth. 

A flood of memories of doing this to Draco filled Harry. How he liked the base of his cock held tight and that sucking and licking of the head drove him to the brink quicker than taking him in deep. Within moments, warm semen filled his mouth. Harry swallowed and then gently licked the fading erection, making Draco shiver with the overstimulation. He rose up from the floor, took Draco's face in his hands and kissed him. 

"This doesn't mean I've made my decision," Draco said derisively. 

"I know it doesn't. But I've missed you, and we need to talk. The situation has changed and you need to know what's happened. Can we go for a walk?"

"I— I, yeah, sure," Draco responded. "Let me get some appropriate attire on. You don't exactly look like you're ready for a walk, though."

Harry stepped away releasing Draco from the wall. "Maybe I could borrow something?"

"I think you'd look good in green," Draco said and then laughed as he left the room. Harry stayed near the wall, still afraid of breaking any of Draco's belongings. The sitting room was decorated for the holidays, something Harry had neglected to do for his own quarters. Suddenly, he had the urge to do so. He wondered what it would be like to make love under a Christmas tree covered in fairy lights.

"I think this should fit," Draco said as he returned to the room, holding up a heavy black cloak trimmed in fur. Harry held out his hand and took it. Draco added a fur cap and warm leather gloves. 

The crisp December air felt brilliant, Harry thought. There were Christmas carols being played from one of the towers; he guessed Gryffindor's. Bundled up, they proceeded down the stairs and onto the path, this time Harry leading the way. He looped his arm through Draco's without objection. 

"What is it, Po— Harry? Why have you dragged me outside into the arctic air when I could be lounging by the fire reading Dickens? And wondering if ghosts would be visiting?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. Three months ago, he would've wanted to smack Draco for such remarks, but now he found his conversation delightful. He thought about smacking himself for being such a sap. However, the discussion about to be had was serious and there was a chance Draco would not be pleased, or rather that he would be pissed over what occurred.

"There is no choice, Draco. Your Harry and I made our own."

Draco stopped dead in his tracks and pulled Harry back to face him. "You did what? What has happened to my Harry?"

Harry turned back to the path and kept walking. "Your Harry, Draco? That seems rather odd to say now, doesn't it? I would say that we are both your Harrys, unless the castle read your needs incorrectly."

Draco ran to catch up with Harry. He grabbed onto his arm, but Harry continued on. "The castle has never been wrong. What happened?"

"I was alerted earlier this evening that there was an emergency in the Room of Requirement."

"And?"

"And when I arrived, Harry was fading. The castle was claiming him back. It didn't think you needed him."

Draco stopped again and bent his head over. Harry was sure he was going to sick up. Instead, he heard deep breaths taken and saw frosty air emerge when Draco exhaled. 

Harry rubbed his back. "He was sad, Draco. He was crying. He didn't want the magic created between you two to be lost, to be absorbed into the castle. What was left was just us, Harry and Draco."

"Oh God!" Draco sobbed.

Harry pulled Draco up from behind. He wrapped his arms around him and rested his chin on his shoulder. "We merged, Draco. We merged," he whispered in his ear. "We're one. I have all the memories of those five years."

Draco was silent, a single tear escaped and slid down his cheek. "Can I ask one question, just to make sure?"

"Of course, but I think I know what it is already."

Draco bit his lower lip and nodded.

"You want to know if I understand why you will always surrender to me. Why you enjoy the pain I can deliver and relish in my response?"

"Yes," Draco hissed.

Harry smirked knowing Draco found it desirable when he did so. Grey eyes were staring at him in anticipation of the answer. "Because, Draco Malfoy, I gave you my hand and literally pulled you from the depths of hell. And you, in turn, pulled me metaphorically out of mine. You know you can trust me to never let you go, and I know I can trust you to take what I can give. It is our space, Draco. Our space where we possess each other's hearts and souls."

"Oh my God!" Draco cried as his knees gave way.

Harry brought him back up to standing, once again. "Walk with me. I want to take you somewhere." Harry put his arm around Draco's shoulder, and they walked in silence, until they reached the gates of Hogwarts. They opened, and the road to Hogsmeade lay ahead. Christmas cheer could be heard coming down the forested path. 

Harry removed his arm from Draco's shoulder and slid the leather glove off his right hand. "Come with me, Draco. I'd like to buy you a glass of elfin-wine at the Three Broomsticks."

Without hesitation, Draco removed his left glove and accepted Harry's hand. Their fingers intertwined as they stepped out over the threshold of Hogwarts gate. 

 

_finis_


End file.
